


dead poets society

by nullgrl



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Anxiety Attacks, Falling In Love, First Love, Implied Past Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, despite the warnings it's a cute story about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nullgrl/pseuds/nullgrl
Summary: They passed each other, Bobby with his hands in his pockets and the boy with his hair dancing in the wind and a skateboard rolling lazily at his feet.Bobby looked away first. His heart beating out of its cage. That wasn’t supposed to happen.He had promised.
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Comments: 76
Kudos: 76





	1. your hand in mine

**Author's Note:**

> this story was mainly inspired by [these](https://beyondthesuga.tumblr.com/post/615622418770362368/just-found-out-that-kim-hanbin-apparently-took) [photos](https://beyondthesuga.tumblr.com/post/615622635180703744/curly-haired-hanbin-everyone) i found them both to be very soft and warm in their portrayal so i had to write something about it. writing this was very therapeutic and i hope that the same feelings of two boys falling in love while battling their struggles is able to bring some semblance of peace.
> 
> _*spoiler alert; although this is called dead poets society, no one dies :))*_

The cherry blossoms bloom prettily in the spring air. Bobby is dropped off with a fleeting smile and a _good luck at school_ , a barely their kiss smacked on his cheek. Bobby sends his mother a tight-lipped grin before muttering his own goodbye and stepping out of the car, his bags and suitcase dropped off at his side.

Students pour into the front gates, some in their own little groups and others walking alone with earbuds plugged in and tired gazes. Some wave their parents off with promises of _I’ll call you soon_ and a few blush in embarrassment as parents kiss cheeks and hug tightly. There are young kids stepping in with awe painted on their faces and sparkling eyes that buzz in excitement as they step into the boarding school.

Bobby cannot feel the same sentiment of excitement. Instead he feels the urge of throwing up the little bit of cereal from this morning before the long travel to the school located in buttfuck nowhere South Korea, the light breakfast wanting to rise up his esophagus and spill out between hurls and gags. His stomach flutters as elephants stampede over his sensitive insides as he treks his way inside the school gates.

Cool spring air dances in soft twirls over his curls and he mentally prepares himself to calm his racing heart and begin a new school year at this new school in a completely different country, away from what he is familiar with and where he thought he’d achieve his bigger dreams. 

And he’s about to do just that. Step into the large ironed gates with teenagers slumping forward or pushing past him in eagerness, but there is the familiar sound of a skateboard rolling beneath the gravel of the entrance and Bobby automatically finds himself searching for its source. He catches a glimpse of a boy, not much taller than him and around his age wearing the mandatory uniform but with his shirttails untucked and flapping behind him and his school pants rolled up at the ends, showing off an arrange of ankle bracelets that glitter in the morning sunlight.

He’s gone, becoming one with the growing crowd of students and Bobby forgets about him. Walking into an unfamiliar place he is now supposed to call home.

\\\

The school looks a lot more different than the catalogues and the website his mother and father had forced him to look at. In the pictures they had a more colorful feel to them, the walls washed in a deep gray with blue streaks of paint decorating it. The grass had been more green, the kind of green from Virginia on summer afternoons that would turn an ugly yellow too fast if not taken care of.

The reality is much different. It’s bleak, dull in all the places it shouldn’t. And it’s incredibly daunting, almost an eerie fog glittering around its edges even on that spring morning. Bobby walks into the huge opened double doors with a grimace on his lips, his bags weigh heavier than they had earlier in the morning when he stuffed his things into them.

Inside, the building’s walls that were once a deep grey have washed away into an almost pale white that makes the faded blue paint look more like accidental stains – or random graffiti. Pictures are hung up on the walls, of students dressed neatly and meticulously with a serious gaze flowered on their faces.

It makes Bobby gulp. He is not used to this kind of environment, to the strictness that seems to emit from the walls and pictures and trophies themselves. Bobby is used to bright school hallways with yellow lights that make the color of his skin unflattering. He is used to baggy jeans with ripped holes and oversized shirts that hang off his shoulders and show off the slight tan of his collarbones. He is used to having his ears dangle with glittering piercings and air Jordan 1’s stepping on the floors that look like they haven’t been scrubbed in years.

This school is the complete opposite. There are no posters handwritten by the student council members in bright blues and neon pinks welcoming them back for another year – instead there is a large plaque with a latin verse tilting over the school name in hangul. Students are not led into the open field of the football stadium where the band kids perform and cheerleaders scream and the football players run out in their uniform, seniors and juniors yelling at the top of their lungs in enthusiasm.

Instead, Bobby finds himself dropping his bags off into his empty dorm and following the rest of the students into a large auditorium, looking as fancy and elegant as everything else in the school is. Students talk with one another, hushed whispers of excitement and smirks tugging lips – but they all wear the pristine uniform with their shirts neatly tucked into black pants or navy blue skirts. They all have the same pair of black shoes with white socks just barely peeking out and they never raise their voices, keeping a low voice as they speak with one another.

Bobby finds himself taking a seat at one of the corners, feeling so out of place in the sea of perfect students. He hates it here already.

The principal walks on stage with a stern scowl framing his forehead. Immediately the students hush and rise from their seats. Bobby stumbles in his haste to stand up as well, frowning when the boy next to him snorts and side eyes him. He feels himself blush and twitch awkwardly in place, shifting from foot to foot until the same boy next to him sighs loudly and Bobby quits his moving around.

Although the principal gives a speech like his own used to do back in Virginia, the words being said are awfully different. Principal Johnson always had something cheesy and cliché to say, a dad joke hidden in his words in which all the students would groan or cringe away from. But there was a sentiment of looking forward to the new year, of coming back to the place where one could be a little bit carefree.

This principal, who Bobby has forgotten the name of, says no words of encouragement. He’s stern, cold and brooding as he speaks about expectations and disappointments and punishments. Something about consequences for actions delivered that is mixed alongside needing to prove yourself, this is especially emphasized on the third years, their last year will be filled with long nights of studying and project deadlines. Bobby is stuck between gulping nervously or rolling his eyes, he chooses to mutter a snarky comment about old farts and he feels a tiny bit better when the guy who had been eyeing him earlier huffs out a breath of laughter.

There are more speeches given and eventually after what feels like forever they are sent out in strict, orderly lines. Bobby watches those students leave the auditorium in perfect lines, so completely out of his element where he is used to the rush of students brushing past one another and stepping down cement stairs, loud screams of girls and boys yelling about basketball. By the time he is escorted they have taken the students outside, where they sing the Korean National Anthem and then recite the pledge of the school anthem in monotone words.

Bobby awkwardly follows the lead, his shoulders heavy when they are finally taken into the huge dining hall and the food is served.

\\\

Bobby doesn’t eat much. The people around him talk fast in Korean, Bobby knows how to speak Korean but it’s not as prim and proper as the students spoke it. It’s a little broken, some words mixing alongside his lisp from when he gets too embarrassed and instead he grumbles out awkward words that don’t make much sense. He finds himself leaving soon after, taking a bite from his porridge before making his way out and up the stairs to his dorm.

When he’d first gone in to drop off his stuff there hadn’t been anything besides the objects that were mandatory for the room. But as he steps in, Bobby is surprised to see someone inside the place he is to call his room now. When he fully opens the door, he comes face to face with the same boy from the auditorium he’d sat next to.

The boy is tall, broad shoulders and strong arms a silhouette beneath the navy blue blazer of their uniform. He is elegant in all the ways Bobby isn’t – with his soft black hair that frames his pretty face. Plump pink lips that Bobby can see the shadow of perfect pearly whites, a button nose that frames his face nicely. But there are also two tiny hoops that dangle on his earlobes, just a tiny bit of disobedience slanted across his preppy and perfect image.

A throat is cleared and Bobby jumps startled, the tall boy smirking and the other boy who he hadn’t noticed until now sending him a bright smile.

“Hi!” The shorter boy says, though he’s only short because he’s standing next to the pretty giant. “You must be Junhoe’s roommate, right? I’m Donghyuk, but my friends call me DK.” He says with an eager smile, it calms Bobby down. He’s used to this, people being extroverts and bubbly around others.

The taller boy snorts, just as elegantly as he is. “No one calls you that.”

Shorter boy, DK, pouts and glares at Junhoe. “I’m so sorry you had to be paired with the biggest douche in this entire facility.”

Junhoe ignores them and goes back to unpacking his stuff, neatly hanging his expensive clothing and rows of uniform into the small closet they individually have.

Donghyuk is staring at him expectantly and Bobby remembers to introduce himself. “I’m Bobby,” he says, watches the way both boys suddenly look curious at the foreign name. Junhoe though goes back to arrange polished black shoes and hiding luxury brand sneakers.

“Oh! Are you from abroad?”

Bobby nods, a little awkward. “Yeah. I mean – my name is Kim Jiwon, but only my mom calls me that. Everyone else, it’s always been Bobby.”

Donghyuk sparks up at that, “That’s cool! So, where you from? Bobby.” He says Bobby’s name like it’s unique, like as if it were a name written in the bible. It makes Bobby squirm and flush.

“Ah, I grew up in Virginia. Fairfax. Virginia. You know, the United States.”

He’s not fully sure why he’s acting so flustered. This is not a normal Bobby act. But then again, Bobby is not in his zone.

Back home he was popular, he was The Bobby. The Asian kid with the cute crooked teeth, the second best basketball player on the varsity basketball team, he was the funny, bright dude with everyone’s contact number and over 4,000 followers on Instagram. Bobby was one of _those_ kids, the one that everyone knew and everyone liked because he was so easy going. His friends back in the States would have surely made fun of him for acting so bashful, but here he has no friends and here he is an outsider.

“Wow,” Donghyuk has pretty brown eyes that shine brighter than the sun. Bobby smiles tightly. “You grew up there then?”

Bobby nods, stepping into his shared room and grabbing his bags from where he’d dumped them earlier. “Yep. Born and raised there. My older brother was born in Seoul, but my family moved to the US when the financial crisis was just beginning to happen.” Bobby shrugs uncomfortably, he avoids looking at Donghyuk or Junhoe.

It’s not that Bobby is ashamed exactly of growing up poor. His parents worked several jobs to keep a roof above their heads and put food on the table. And his older brother worked hard and attended school at the same time to help their parents out. Bobby is proud of them, happy that he can confidently say he comes from a hard working family. But he knows that there are people who look down on those who live a humble life, and this school is filled with rich kids, wealthy houses and clothing that costs more than Bobby’s entire collection of shoes he’s gotten through the years.

Luckily, Donghyuk just nods along and Junhoe looks more interested in arranging his huge assortment of fancy French colognes and body lotion to pay much attention to them. So, slowly, Bobby warms up to Donghyuk. They share a few jokes here and there and eventually Junhoe joins in, slumped over his bed and having changed into casual attire – still as expensive as he looks – as he scrolls through his phone and without the knowledge of Bobby searches him up on SNS.

Bobby is interrupted from telling Donghyuk about school in America by Junhoe’s deep voice.

“Do you have any social media?” The boy asks.

He looks curious but the way he says the words, they come off as disinterested and it gives Bobby whiplash. One minute the tall boy is sitting up eagerly listening to Bobby’s stories about Football games and pretty cheerleaders and the next minute he looks bored and wishing Bobby would shut up.

Bobby blinks, “Yea. I have a twitter and an insta, I sometimes use snapchat but don’t really see the point in it.”

Both boys look at him blankly. “Snapchat?” Donghyuk asks.

“You take pictures and upload them to your story or like send them to your friends and have a streak with them.” Bobby tries to explain but they both look at him like he’s speaking a different language and for all Bobby knows he might as well be. He gives up the topic pretty soon, Bobby isn’t a big fan of the app either way.

“My insta is bobbyindaeyo,” Bobby says to Junhoe and then the older boy is nodding and falling back into his bed. Donghyuk looks at Junhoe inquiringly, but then rolls his eyes and asks Bobby about his schedule. They find out that they have some classes together and Bobby feels a lot better than this morning knowing he won’t be super lost since Donghyuk assures him he’ll help him get familiar with his classes.

Before Bobby knows it Donghyuk is getting up and saying something about getting back to his own dorm and letting Bobby put his stuff away. Bobby hadn’t even noticed that he’d only ever taken out a uniform shirt before he got caught up telling stories. It makes him chuckle and he passes Donghyuk his number and downloads the infamous kakaotalk they kept mentioning.

Then it’s Junhoe and Bobby alone in their dorm. The air turns awkward and tense and Bobby struggles to keep a conversation going – Junhoe looks like he doesn’t really care too much about him, his entire focus on his phone but sometimes when Bobby is putting away stuff he’ll catch the boy staring at him inquisitively, as if trying to figure him out.

Then Junhoe finally speaks up, scaring Bobby since he’d given up long ago and was arranging his small stack of comic books into his drawers. “You have a lot of followers,” he says and there is open curiosity in his gaze.

Bobby feels abashed all of a sudden, “It was a pretty big school.” Bobby responds.

Junhoe hums, “4,393 people is a lot for a school.”

“I mean, I knew people from outside of school.”

Junhoe looks at him a little more before shrugging and turning over his bed. The conversation ends there.

**//**

Bobby can’t really remember much of what he did the night before. He texted some friends, but since there was the time difference the messages had stopped and Bobby had pretended not to feel too hurt about it. Junhoe had completely ignored his presence and then had gotten up at some point and never returned.

When Bobby woke up the next morning, Junhoe had done his bed and only the scent of expensive perfume that wafted the room let Bobby know his roommate had come back. He showered in the large communal bathroom and changed into his uniform which in Bobby’s eyes already had wrinkles forming. He sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes that were blocked by his glasses, not looking forward to the onslaught of classes.

Bobby wasn’t a dumb student; it was more of not having the interest to actually study which made him an average student at best. But he’d always been a B student since he had basketball to worry over. One C on his report card and coach was after his ass, cutting him off practice and making him attend hours of tutoring for one low grade on a stupid test. But this school was not like Fairfax High School, this was a boarding school for the future science majors, business majors, the engineer majors.

And Bobby, truthfully, was not fucking interested in any of that. He liked music, he especially like to rap and write lyrics. He enjoyed dancing, had been in the dance club from his prepubescent days of middle school and wrote lines and lines of rap lyrics he’d hidden from his mother, knowing he’d get an earful for the amount of times the word ‘dick’ appeared. Bobby was an art kid, his world revolving in the way he could manipulate words into short sentences where he let out his frustrations and his dreams.

His family knew about his passion, but Bobby had always seen the way his mother’s eyes would become wishful when she spoke about how he’d be a great doctor one day or work for _Samsung_ as an engineer or supervisor. Bobby didn’t think he was cut out for that stuff, but his mother would always wave him off and say about how his writing and music was a phase he’d outgrow.

Bobby is surprised when he sees Donghyuk and Junhoe and another unfamiliar boy waiting for him at the bottom of the step, seated on the large fancy and old furniture of the common room. Junhoe raises a judgmental brow as he sweeps his gaze over Bobby’s attire and Bobby feels himself flush. He’d done his hair to look at least somewhat presentable for the school day, but he feels out of his comfort box wearing tight black pants, a clean white button up with a navy blue tie, and the stupid blazer with its fancy golden beads and silver words of the school name.

“C’mon Bobby, they don’t serve breakfast all morning,” Donghyuk exclaims and grabs his wrist to usher them out.

Bobby gulps as he stays a few steps behind the trio, every few minutes his hand reaching up to push his glasses up even though they hadn’t moved an inch. Donghyuk tries to include him in their conversation, but their little bubble seems full enough with the three boys. Junhoe glances at Bobby once before ignoring him and the short boy only sends Bobby a fleeting smirk and a nod, turning back to walk alongside Junhoe.

Breakfast goes by pretty quick. Bobby eats some of the food, although his mother used to cook Korean traditional food, Bobby’s parents worked too hard to make it a habit, so Bobby was used to take out and dinners at his Anglo or Mexican friends house. He finishes the food though, forcing it down his throat despite wanting to throw up from the nerves.

Junhoe and Jinhwan, the short boy’s name he’d come to know after a brief introduction, got up and left for their class. Bobby watched their retreating backs as Donghyuk talked his ear off, glancing at the way they kept their backs straight and so uptight and how causal and confident they looked with their hands in their pockets and heads held high.

“– and the philosophy class isn’t too hard. I heard the third years from last year saying he was pretty lenient, so we’re okay in that class.”

Bobby startles as he realizes he hasn’t heard a single word from what Donghyuk said. He feels guilt well up in his stomach, pretends that he knew what the boy had been on about with a nod and a shaky smile. Donghyuk must take it as Bobby being nervous – which he is, education in Korea and the US is vastly different, and he’s intimidated by all the perfect people surrounding him.

“No worries Bobby hyung,” and the word, _hyung_ , makes Bobby feel uncomfortable, a little weirded out. “You have me by your side, this year will go by in flying colors.”

\\\

Their first class of the day, Astronomy, is all the way across the school campus. Bobby and Donghyuk walk out through the doors in the large cafeteria that lead to a pathway filled with rows of pretty flowers on bushes. The morning is clouded in a thick fog and Bobby can feel his mood dampen even more as he realizes that he hasn’t seen the sun since he was dropped off yesterday morning.

Outside, Bobby notices some tables and benches underneath the shade of large trees. Scattered around the yard are pretty cherry blossoms that sparkle over the brown branches and Bobby stares at the trees in awe, he had never seen them in person, so up close. The trees in Virginia were old and huge, their leaves turning a bright orange or a dull yellow on fall afternoons and in the spring pretty white flowers would bloom on bright green leaves.

Donghyuk is happily making conversation, and Bobby enjoys the lull of it. Morning voices croaking out complaints, the scent of cherry blossoms perfuming the air like Junhoe’s expensive cologne in their room.

Bobby lets himself enjoy this moment. Back in Virginia he’d always been so caught up with his own life, playing basketball and making it into tournaments. It revolved around which volleyball girl he’d take as a date for the party the football players would throw. The only thing he had to worry about was maintaining good grades and impressing his teammates, writing lyrics and making beats in his old laptop. But here, in Korea, he can feel the taste of change bitter in his tongue.

So, Bobby hums along with Donghyuk, talking about a movie they’d both seen and the wind ruffling their hair as foggy clouds stick to their skin like mist.

And then he hears it.

The familiar sound of a skateboard rolling on gravel sidewalk. Bobby’s body aches with fondness and memories. He follows the sound, catching sight of an old skateboard with faded English words and stickers plastered on the bottom. Bobby’s eyes glance up to its owner and feels his breath stutter in his chest when his eyes meet brown eyes. Bobby faintly recognizes him from the day before – the boy with the ankle bracelets.

They stare at one another with the distance growing further between them. The boy had stopped at a table with two other boys, but he’d paid them no mind as he kept his eyes trained on Bobby. He was good looking, a nose that could be a little too large for his face, but messy brown hair that fell into his lashes and made his eyes flutter as he intensely gazed at Bobby. His skin was flushed a lovely golden bronze and Bobby couldn’t help the way his heart both fluttered and sank. They passed each other, Bobby with his hands in his pockets and Donghyuk rapidly talking, and the boy with his hair dancing in the wind and a skateboard rolling lazily at his feet.

Bobby looked away first. His heart beating out of its cage. That wasn’t supposed to happen. _He had promised_.

\\\

He is only in his third class of the day and Bobby is already tired. He can feel it sink deeply into his bones and bite through them to make him feel heavier and grouchier than ever. Unfortunately, for him, Donghyuk is not in this class with him. Also, unfortunately for him, Junhoe shares this class with him.

Bobby had sunk into the table furthest from the door, near the corner that looked directly out into the large field with pretty trees and tiny figures moving about the school. The class was in the third floor, so Bobby had the better advantage of curiously following people walk through the maze of the campus.

Bobby had watched Junhoe come into class, his eyes sweeping over the slowly growing classroom and briefly gazing at Bobby. He stood as tall and proud as ever, smiling sweetly at the teacher in the front who looked seconds away from cooing along with the girls in class. Bobby rolled his eyes, he felt conflicted about Junhoe. The boy seemed so emotionless and indifferent, like as if he was doing everybody a favor of existing around them. But he’d also been leaning over his bed with Donghyuk as Bobby recalled stories of house parties and Friday night lights at the field.

Honestly, Bobby had expected for Junhoe to sit in the front like all the nerds in his high school used to do. But he jumped almost of out his seat when he heard a bookbag fall with a thump onto the desk right next to him and Junhoe plopped himself onto the chair with a sigh. Bobby blinked, looking at the boy in confusion. Junhoe only spared him a passing glance before turning to take out his notebook and a textbook.

And that’s how the rest of his third period class went. The teacher had called roll, Junhoe had taken neat notes – and wow, his handwriting was just as pretty and perfect as he was – as he paid his full attention on the teacher and sent cocky smiles at some of the girls who looked at him dreamily from across the classroom. Bobby passed the class with writing meaningless poems on the margins of his notebook and only half paid attention. He was rather busy staring out at the dull sunlight that kept playing peek-a-boo in the foggy late morning.

\\\

Bobby is eternally grateful when lunch comes around. Donghyuk catches up to him as he walks through the crowded corridor, asking him about his classes.

“Eh, you know. They were alright, a lot different from Fairfax, but I think I can get by.” He says through a lying smile.

There is no way he’s going to get by, Bobby is going to have to study, something he has never done – an exaggeration but this school seems to make life seem so dramatic. Although exams were tough on them, Bobby always had the trust of turning in projects and assignments and asking for extra credit. Every teacher in his past four classes have made it abundantly clear they will _not_ tolerate any late work. He’s screwed.

But Donghyuk looks happy with his answer, and Bobby flinches when the slightly shorter boy hooks an arm over his own and skips into the cafeteria. No one pays them much mind, except lo and behold for Junhoe and Jinhwan, who give them a judgmental stare which makes Bobby flush and plaster himself away from Donghyuk’s touch.

“Here,” Junhoe says, passing Bobby a notebook. He recognizes it as the one from the class they shared and he takes it with a questioning gaze. Jinhwan turns eagle eyes onto them, pretending to listen to Donghyuk – poor sweet boy, always talking and no one ever listening; Bobby feels bad about that and promises to pay more attention to what he’d call his first friend at the school – as he pointedly stares at Junhoe and then glares a little at Bobby.

“What’s this?” Bobby asks.

Junhoe doesn’t answer for a while, busying himself with eating his food. Bobby feels self-conscious and tugs at his glasses.

“You didn’t take notes, so you can use mine.” He finally says.

Bobby nods flustered as he scoops kimchi fried rice as an excuse to not reply. But Donghyuk perks up at that, face bright.

“You two share a class?”

Jinhwan stares at Bobby through the corner of his eyes, “Junhoe didn’t mention that.”

Junhoe shifts uncomfortably, and it’s the first time Bobby has seen him look a little less perfect. “It’s not a big deal. We have to pair up for assignments and I don’t want a dumbass as a partner.” Junhoe says scathingly. Jinhwan doesn’t look convinced, but Donghyuk rolls his eyes.

“Oh,” Bobby mutters, “Thanks. I’ll give it back at our dorm.”

Junhoe nods and ignores him for the rest of lunch.

\\\

Bobby’s last class of the day is the Philosophy class Donghyuk had mentioned earlier. Surprisingly it is also with Donghyuk, Junhoe and Jinhwan. Bobby is forced to sit in the front next to Donghyuk and Junhoe sits behind him while Jinhwan plops himself on the seat behind Donghyuk. The class fills up, chatter sweltering into the air. The students look more comfortable, ties loosened up, button ups undone, blazer sleeves lifted above elbows.

Bobby himself is feeling more relaxed as students filter in. Soon the teacher walks in, a bright grin on his face and the room goes silent in seconds. Bobby goes back to feeling tense – he can also sense Junhoe’s stare plaguing his backside – and scoops out the philosophy book with tiny words in hangul that Bobby can’t fully understand. Just before the door is closed and the teacher opens his mouth to speak, a body is slamming in and almost stumbles into the teacher.

Bobby can feel his heart stutter and skip a beat. It’s the boy from earlier. His eyes immediately find Bobby’s and it might by wishful thinking but Bobby swears he sees his lips turn up, eyes soft on him.

“Make yourself at home, young jedi.” The teacher says.

Some of the students laugh, and the boy sends him a large smile – _stop it, stop it, stopit, stopstopstop_. The boy takes a seat on the opposite side of where Bobby sits, way back in the corner and he takes notice of how the boy wears his uniform in messy attire. Unlike Junhoe with his pristine and uniformed clothes, or Donghyuk’s neatly tucked in shirt, or the way Jinhwan’s pants fit him perfectly as if they’d been tailored for him.

This boy wears his tie crooked, the two top buttons of his white shirt undone and Bobby can take a peek of golden collarbones. He has an array of silver thin rings on his fingers and two earrings that glint in the florescent light of the classroom. Old and tattered bracelets are wrapped delicately around his wrist, and his pants are rolled up above his ankles just like they’d been yesterday. Bobby wonders for a few seconds where his skateboard has gone, but is startled from that thought when he feels a light kick on his chair, making him aware of his creepy staring.

He turns back to face the front with a blush on his cheeks, Bobby really needs to get a hold of himself. He was sent here for a reason and he should pay attention to their teacher rather than wonder about the boy with the pretty heart shaped lips. Bobby must look dazed from having been caught – he’s more than sure it was Junhoe who kicked his seat – because his teacher is suddenly blinking at him with his curious brown eyes. His hands become clammy and he shifts uneasily in his chair.

“No need to be afraid Mr,,,”

Bobby clears his throat, “Kim. Jiwon Kim.” He’s not sure why he said his Korean name, he doesn’t like people calling him by Jiwon.

The teacher sends him a friendly smile, he is so unlike the scowling staff that litters the classrooms. “Ah yes. Mr. Kim Jiwon. Well, you mustn’t be afraid son, I don’t bite.” He smiles mischievously, “Normally.”

The class laughs lightly and Jiwon smiles back embarrassed. “Well, since we’ve had our first introduction, how ‘bout the rest of the class shares their name.”

Some students look around nervously and Bobby can’t help the way he shrinks into his seat feeling like it’s his fault people have to speak up.

“Young man, behind Kim. Jiwon Kim. Please state your name.”

“Goo Junhoe.”

And so on it goes, every student stating their name as their teacher grins and repeats the name silently. The class isn’t the biggest, only about twenty students sit in the neat rows of tables. Bobby turns in his seat as subtly as he can when the final student is reached and he awaits to hear the name of the boy who has captured his full attention.

“Kim Hanbin.” He says. His eyes sparkle in the white bulbs that hung up on the ceiling and his grin is friendly, his voice a mixture between husky and almost like a growl, like it comes from deep in his chest. But it’s nice and Bobby can’t help the way he rolls the boy’s name on his tongue silently.

_Kim Hanbin._

\\\

Bobby is exhausted by the time he reaches his dorm. Junhoe is nowhere to be found and Bobby is grateful for that. He doesn’t want to think about the awkwardness that would linger in the air between them as Bobby thought of ways to make conversation while Junhoe sat on his bed, oblivious to his turmoil.

He makes promise of his word though and diligently copies the notes Junhoe lend him. Junhoe must be exceptionally smart, Bobby reads the words that form articulate sentences and finds himself wishing he could have been that smart boy, the boy his parents wished him to be. Bobby shakes his head from those thoughts and continues to copy down. He’s only interrupted when the door opens and Junhoe steps into the dorm.

“Are you coming down for dinner?” Junhoe asks.

Bobby looks at the pile of homework he has to do, “No,” he replies regrettably, “I wanna start before it all gets overwhelming.”

Junhoe looks at him with those same inquisitive eyes, narrowing them until they look like slits. Bobby looks away and occupies himself with drawing random doodles over the inked page.

“Okay, but Donghyuk will scold you later for it.” Then he leaves, his uniform as immaculate as this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a confession, it was super difficult to not scrap double b as the main pairing and turning this into junbob. i just really enjoyed the idea of two awkward dudes getting to know one another and falling in love, but i stayed loyal to double b :) pat on the back. oh! also, i made a [twt](https://t.co/WpQAI5rGAE) if u wanna follow i guess. thanks for reading so far <3


	2. you're so very far away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can take a picture if you want, it’ll last longer.” Hanbin’s voice is husky and smooth. A velvety sound that has goosebumps traveling through Bobby’s arms.

Bobby has settled into a routine. He wakes up and every time he does Junhoe is nowhere to be seen, his bed neatly done. Bobby gets himself ready, always tugging his shirt and pulling his blazer further into his upper body. Whenever he reaches the common room the trio is waiting for him and they walk together into the cafeteria where Donghyuk will ask Bobby questions about basketball and Bobby happily answers them. Then Junhoe and Jinhwan will stand up and leave without so much as a glance at them and go off to their classrooms.

Bobby doesn’t get to see much of Kim Hanbin. The boy is a mystery to him and he’s tempted to ask Donghyuk about him but he’s afraid of the younger boy prying too much into why he wants to know about him when Hanbin isn’t much of a popular kid. Only when he’s in Dr. Jung’s class does he get to catch a slight glimpse of the boy.

But the boy seems to have gotten over him from the start, scribbling notes into a notebook with a passionate hand but also paying attention to their philosophy teacher. He hasn’t glanced Bobby’s way since that first day of class, when Bobby swore the boy sent him a smile. Jinhwan has caught his eye a few times and he always sends him that annoying raised eyebrow, it makes him flustered so he curls into his desk and pretends to read the chapter they’ve been assigned.

Throughout the days that pass by, Bobby has grown closer to Donghyuk. He meets the boy’s roommate, a guy named Changkyun with a British accent. Bobby gets along with him just fine and Donghyuk looks proud of himself which makes Bobby befriend the boy even though they don’t have much in common except for their mutual agreement that Kendrick Lamar is one of the greatest rappers and basketball is exciting.

As for Junhoe. Well. Bobby can’t say much there. They haven’t gotten much closer, but Junhoe will sometimes ask Bobby if he wants to watch a movie with him on his laptop. The first time Junhoe asked him Bobby had gaped like a fish out of water and Junhoe had laughed loudly, it made Bobby squirm – it was pretty cute.

He enjoyed watching the movies with Junhoe, though the same could not be said with his choice of movies. Bobby liked action movies, some Dwayne Johnson or superhero movies like _Infinity War_ or _Wonder Women._ Junhoe liked movies about guys in suits and old western music in the background. He watched movies like _Bohemian Rhapsody_ and _Good Fellas_. But Bobby never said anything because Junhoe showed an array of emotions during those moments and Bobby felt warm sitting next to the boy, his presence soothing despite the on growing stress of school and school papers.

And that was really all he shared with Junhoe. Except for the notebook. Bobby felt guilty regarding Junhoe’s notes so he’d tried to write his own, but the class was so confusing and the teacher really had it out for Bobby for no reason really. Junhoe had snorted and just handed – more like forcefully shoved – it into Bobby’s lap. Besides those interactions, Junhoe was a solid wall that Bobby couldn’t crawl over and befriend the boy.

Meanwhile, Bobby didn’t even try with Jinhwan. The short boy, _and was he short_ , never showed Bobby any warmth. He would only send Bobby smirks and judging eye glances, blinking at Bobby like as if he were wondering why a specimen like him existed in the same universe he did.

Bobby couldn’t blame him, Jinhwan was attractive despite how tiny he was. He had those alluring, slanted eyes that felt smoldering with their gaze, and his lips were full and pouty, a straight soft nose framing his delicate features and dark brown hair that laid upon his head in a straight cascade over his forehead. Girls would follow his form like moths to a light. Bobby felt intimidated and apprehensive whenever Jinhwan stared at him with a critical eye, as if he knew all of Bobby’s secrets.

To be honest, school really wasn’t as bad as he’d initially thought. Though Bobby hated all the work they were assigned and he also felt an immense dislike to the teacher he shared Junhoe with, he’d become close with people and rather found himself surprisingly interested in his astronomy class with Donghyuk and the philosophy class he had at the end of the day.

Their teacher was a quick witted old man, with a sharp tongue and jokes rolled up his sleeve. He was the only thing Bobby felt familiar with in this new school, so much like the teachers and coaches back in Virginia.

He was slowly growing warm towards the school. Trying to tamper down the growing thought that it was because he looked forward to seeing Kim Hanbin.

\\\

He takes it back.

Bobby is no longer growing warm to the school. In fact, he hates it. He hates this stupid school and their stupid rules and his stupid teacher.

It’s barely the beginning of his third week. Bobby had spent his weekend between writing lyrics beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree on spring afternoons and watching Stranger Things with Junhoe. He’d successfully – and rather proudly – hooked the boy into the show and now Junhoe and him were watching the episodes religiously. Though Bobby had made it a rule to only watch two episodes for every weekend so they could enjoy them, Junhoe had grumbled and argued but had ultimately agreed with him.

But Sunday evening he had called his mother. Bobby had been excited at first, he’d stayed up late on Saturday facetiming his old friends from Virginia and catching up with them. He had missed them a lot, especially his teammates from basketball and there was an ache forming in his chest as he remembered the days of excitement as basketball season grew closer and they hyped each other up. Junhoe hadn’t been in the dorm that night, probably having stayed with Jinhwan or something, so he’d taken advantage of the solitude.

Soon after finishing the chat, Bobby had fallen asleep and later the next day in the evening called his mother to let her know he was doing fine. At first the conversation had been okay; she’d told him about the prayers she did for him and Bobby smiled tightly through the phone line as he thanked her. He asked about his older brother and his dad, she asked him about classes.

“They’re hard, a lot harder than Virginia. All they let us do is study, it’s tiring mom.”

His mother laughed softly, her voice cackling through the line. “Ah, but it’s all in the name for you to grow up and graduate as a successful young man.”

Bobby’s hold on his phone had tightened, but he’d gone along with it, not mentioning the music he’d been working on. Then she asked about it.

“And your roommate?” Her voice was strained and Bobby held back a sigh.

“He’s nice enough. His name is Junhoe and he helps me out with classes.”

She hummed, “That’s good.” But Bobby had heard her _Keep it that way._ “We don’t want a repeat of –“

“Yeah I know mom,” Bobby had interrupted, swallowing thickly.

The door had opened and Junhoe walked in with a questioning expression. Bobby had ignored the glance and stuttered out a rushed goodbye, an excuse of needing to finish a paper. His mother sighed from the other end. Bobby hated disappointing her, but he didn’t feel like having a repeat of the conversation that haunted his mind.

Junhoe had looked like he wanted to ask about Bobby’s sudden hang up, but Bobby had gotten his bookbag and rushed his way down the stairs and empty corridors until he made it into the library. He’d slept fitfully that night, barely getting a wink of sleep. And he’d been late for class which made him moody.

That was how he found himself in his current situation. Junhoe had been bothering him about Bobby’s sudden drop in mood. Junhoe was familiar with an aloof Bobby, a smile always sneaking up his lips and his eyes bright even though they hid beneath his messy bangs. He’d never seen Bobby look so frustrated and angry and even though Junhoe knew it wasn’t his place, he was curious about it.

Bobby had snapped at the boy, telling Junhoe to leave it be and had mistakenly said it during their pop quiz the teacher had handed out. This was all Junhoe’s fault obviously, he’d been bugging Bobby nonstop since he’d slumped into his chair a few seconds before class started. He’d thrown him a bunch of tiny papers with pointed looks and Bobby had gotten tired of the prying. Who was Junhoe to meddle in his personal life? He knew almost nothing about Junhoe and the boy had never explicitly shown him much interest before – it made Bobby angry that it seem like Junhoe only wanted the details of his life for his own gossip.

Which was why he’d whispered – _very loudly_ – at Junhoe to leave him alone and threw all the tiny papers back at him. A book had slammed on his desk which made both of them and the rest of the class jump. The teacher had fury in her eyes and she’d given Bobby immediate detention for an entire week, not sparing a glance at Junhoe except to give him a sweet smile.

Bobby was not going to admit he didn’t feel hurt when Junhoe hadn’t reached out to the teacher to assure her that it was both of their faults. Instead Junhoe had picked up his stuff when class ended and ignored Bobby’s regretful gaze. The teacher gave him a red slip, he was to report to the dentition hall at exactly 4:30 P.M. and if he were a minute late then another day would be added to his five days of detention. Bobby had apologized and bowed – because bowing was such a sign of respect here in Korea (sarcasm drips from his thoughts) – before scuffling out of the classroom.

Throughout the school hours they were forbidden of being on their phones. Bobby had lunch hour but he didn’t feel like coming face to face with Junhoe yet, still hurt and angry for what he’d done. He also didn’t want to step into the library, the suffocating air that echoed around the walls of the large space made Bobby shrivel in nerves so he went outside, to nowhere in particular. Students sat on tables and talked with one another as they enjoyed the afternoon sunlight and the cool breeze that spring swept through them.

Bobby found a tree with shade to cover him and took his phone out where he hid it in his backpack, untangling his earbuds while opening his notebook where he wrote his lyrics and thoughts and ideas. He sent a quick message to Donghyuk, an excuse the boy was surely to read through, even though the chances of him checking his phone were slim to none. But the thought was there and he played his current playlist on spotify to distract himself from his mother’s words, and Junhoe’s prying, and the stupid detention he had to attend.

\\\

“Where were you earlier?” Donghyuk asks accusingly, like as if Bobby not appearing for lunch was personally offensive to him.

Bobby gives Junhoe a fleeting glance and sends Jinhwan a frown when the boy moves his head to the side mockingly. Junhoe meets his eye, but just for a brief second before Bobby turns to look at Donghyuk.

“I got detention,” he says instead.

Donghyuk gasps, making people turn their attention to them. “What did you do Kim Jiwon!” He exclaims and now people really are looking at them.

Bobby is torn between sneering at his nosy peers and withdrawing into himself. He ends up giving Donghyuk a dry stare, “What makes you think it’s my fault?”

Jinhwan is the one to respond, “Maybe because it’s you who got detention.”

There he goes, talking _at_ Bobby, not _to_ him. It annoys him, and he’s already fired up with his mom’s comment and Junhoe and the detention. The only reason why he doesn’t snap at him is because Hanbin comes into class and Bobby forgets about everything. But it’s only for a second, before Donghyuk is lightly slapping his shoulder.

“Ow,” he recoils even though it didn’t hurt. “It’s just, my teacher hates me. She’ll give me any reason for detention.” Bobby doesn’t mention that the teacher who gave him detention is also the very same one he shares with Junhoe.

“It’s all week, too.”

That was a bad idea to tell because Donghyuk goes back to slapping him, this time harder.

“Now, now Mr. Kim DK,” their professor starts, he sends Bobby a fatherly grin and it calms him down, just a little. “I will not tolerate any sort of violence in this room unless you are to defeat a stormtrooper and bring honor to the jedi’s.”

Donghyuk flushes, stopping as fast as he started. Bobby sends his teacher a shy smile. “Today we shall talk about the works of Simone de Beauvoir and her book _The Second Sex._ ”

Bobby spends class distracted, flickering through each page and not at all looking forward to the end of class and the beginning of detention.

\\\

**4:27 P.M.**

Bobby dashes past the crowded hallway. Classes end at 4:20 P.M. which means Bobby only has ten minutes to run from the Arts and Human Resource Building to the main one centered all the way across campus. He asked Donghyuk where the room was located when their professor paired them up with their seatmates, Donghyuk told him where but had ranted and scolded Bobby for getting detention in the first place. Bobby felt bad and also really irritated and wanted to tell Donghyuk that it was all Junhoe’s fault.

Some students look at him weirdly as he shoves his way past the swarming sidewalk. His backpack is flapping behind him and the huge philosophy book he had thrusted haphazardly was digging its corners into his lower back. God, why hadn’t he just ignored Junhoe’s annoying attempts to pry into his life?

He sighs in relief when he dashes inside the cool air of the building. A staff glares at him before sneering and looking away. Bobby looks down at himself and scrunches his nose, his shirt is sticking to his skin uncomfortably and his tie is crooked along with his glasses. His hair is a rat’s mess from the wind pulling his strands and a thin sheen of sweat glistens over his bronze skin. Fuck, he’s going to be late. He catches sight of a clock hanging on the wall and sees it’s 4:29.

Just when the clock strikes 4:30 and Bobby swears he hears the hand echoing the time, he bursts into the room. Inside there is an old man, stern face and thin glasses perched on his crooked nose. He looks at Bobby with disdain, a sneer pulling his chapped lips. The man looks straight out of a high school cliché villain movie.

“Sorry,” Bobby’s voice is breathless from running. He takes out the wrinkled red slip and the man gives it a brief glance before waving him away.

“Sit anywhere and keep your mouth shut,” He says. “You’ll be here all week so make yourself, _comfortable_.” He says the last word with a nasty smirk, old yellow crooked teeth flashing at Bobby.

For his part Bobby gulps and nods. The room is the size of a classroom, but the windows are displayed fully over the wall so that anyone who passes by can see inside. He also notices that it’s empty, he’s not sure whether to be surprised or not by that revelation.

Bobby had been in detention back in Fairfax, but it happened only his freshman year when his friend Ralph dared him to flip a bottle and get it to stand upright near the window – except Ralph forgot to mention it was slightly open and it ended up falling onto the desk of a girl, water dripping down her books. Bobby had thought that perhaps there would be some students, someone rebellious out there in this stupid, rich school.

Bobby decides to take a seat at the corner of the second to last row. He sighs heavily as he settles into his desk and takes out some homework. Detention will probably last two hours, so he might as well work on some stuff before he’s let out and rushes off for dinner. He regrets not having bought a snack from a vending machine, but he was too desperate to get here on time and not add any more days to his hell week.

The man hasn’t moved since Bobby entered. Just sits there and glares at Bobby’s hunched form. Every once in a while Bobby will look up and quickly avoid his stare when he finds the man looking at him. It makes him uncomfortable so he does his best to ignore it and answer his astronomy homework. The clock in the room shifts for every second and minutes that passes, Bobby begins to hum up a song in his head and lyrics.

Outside through the windows, Bobby sees a few boys dressed in athletic clothing run off with a soccer ball underneath an arm. He envies them, wishes it was him out there with a basketball and a courtyard to run back and forth shooting balls. He’s snapped from his daydreaming when the door is slammed open. Bobby jumps in his seat and watches the man wrinkle his face further, a sneer on his face.

Bobby stifles a gasp. It’s Hanbin.

Hanbin walks into the room completely opposite to how he’d just slammed the door open. He looks bored and untidy, his blazer nowhere to be seen but his skateboard underneath an arm. There’s a light weighted backpack on his shoulder, Bobby wonders if the boy really only carries a notebook in there and the philosophy textbook assigned for their shared class. He hasn’t noticed Bobby yet, keeping his eyes on the old man with a sly smirk on his lips.

“Why hello to you as well, Filch.” Hanbin looks different in Bobby’s eyes. For one, Bobby has never been this close to him – though by close he means the distance from where he sits and the front isn’t that far apart – and Hanbin usually has a blank face with expressive eyes. Right now, Hanbin is curling his lips and offhandedly giving his slip to the man.

The man, Filch or whatever Hanbin had called him, snatches the paper and growls at Hanbin. He mutters something about stupid runts before getting up from the desk. Before he leaves the room, Hanbin twisting around to watch him go, the man scowls at Bobby and points his finger at him, “ _You_. I will see you tomorrow. Exactly at 4:30.” Then he’s out the room.

But Bobby doesn’t pay much attention to him. When the old man pointed a finger, Hanbin had immediately turned to look at who he was pointing at. A flicker of recognition passes Hanbin’s face, something like admiration flashing through his eyes. Bobby gulps and quickly looks down, scribbling words for his draft of Human Evolution essay. The door slams closed and the room goes back to being quiet. For Bobby though, there are a million of red flags and sirens going off, his mother’s words before he moved schools and their conversation from last night echoing in his mind.

Hanbin sighs annoyed, makes his way down the aisle of chairs before slipping down a desk only two seats in front of Bobby’s on the row next to his. Bobby can’t help himself as he peeks through his lashes to catch the curve of Hanbin’s neck, his long neck peeking out from the button up that hugs his body nicely. From across Bobby, he can see Hanbin dig through his relatively empty backpack and pull out a notebook with stickers and quotes doodled all over its cover.

Then he’s off to scribble words, Bobby guesses. He wonders what brought Hanbin into detention. If the exchange between the man and Hanbin from earlier meant anything it was that Hanbin was a familiar presence in this very room.

Bobby hadn’t heard much from Hanbin, his friends never mentioned him and the students he shared classes with never spoke about a boy riding around campus on a skateboard. It was like he was a ghost in this school, roaming the hallways and haunting Bobby’s every waking thought.

The only people who Bobby has seen him hang out with are the two boy’s he shares the philosophy class with. He vaguely remembers their names being Yunhyeong and Chanwoo. Chanwoo is quiet and rarely speaks up in class, but Yunhyeong reminds Bobby of a mixture between Junhoe and Donghyuk – he’s bubbly and joyful, but has a pretentious rich kid air to him that is familiar to Junhoe’s.

He finds their trio to be odd: a popular boy, a reserved boy, and a mystery boy don’t seem to be recipe for greatest of all time. But it must work out since Bobby specifically remembers passing Hanbin and those two boys seated between him.

Bobby should stop his thoughts from further unraveling the tangled mess that is Kim Hanbin. He has more important things to do than think about the boy at the moment – like finish his history rough draft and do his political science homework. Not stare and follow the veins that run through Hanbin’s glowing arms or the way his curly brown hair that is growing a little too long curls over his neck and tangles into his tiny ears, ringed along with piercings.

“You can take a picture if you want, it’ll last longer.” Hanbin’s voice is husky and smooth. A velvety sound that has goosebumps traveling through Bobby’s arms.

He startles from his seat, eyes widening as Hanbin turns around his desk to fully face him. Bobby can feel heat flush over his cheeks and he’s quick to curl into himself and scribble away a bunch of bullshit for his essay. Despite not sparing a glance at Hanbin, he can feel the boy’s gaze boring into him with an intensity that leaves Bobby feeling breathless.

The afternoon light has dimmed down as it shifts its way into twilight. The sunlight that pours into the room is the only thing that gives any source of light, so from the shadows of the classroom Bobby peeks through lashes to find Hanbin twisted around his chair, elbows placed on the edge of it and just gazing at him with his pretty face supporting itself on his hands. Bobby shifts anxiously, he’s embarrassed to have been caught staring at Hanbin earlier – and the comment about taking a picture has for sure made his face color a bright pink.

Bobby thinks about responding back, maybe say something witty in return but Hanbin is suddenly out of his chair. For a moment Bobby thinks Hanbin is going to walk out but he’s surprised when instead the boy decides to seat himself right next to the desk Bobby sits at. Bobby’s pencil falls from his fingers and rolls around his desk mindlessly, he cannot be blamed for openly staring at Hanbin, with the boy who has been wiggling its way into his subconscious and now sits right in front of him.

“You’re Jiwon, right?” He asks. Hanbin’s smile is choppy around the edges, looking almost like he’s just as nervous as Bobby feels.

Bobby clears his throat, “Yeah, Jiwon.” He huffs out an awkward laugh ( _get over yourself, dude_ ). “But everyone calls me Bobby. It’s mostly my mom and dad who call me by my birth name.”

Hanbin’s smile is soft around the edges. See here, the way Bobby catches Hanbin’s details varies on how he’s feeling. When Bobby first saw Hanbin, he’d only gotten a glimpse of his backside and he had been the only student to stand out against the sea of perfect teenagers before getting lost in that ocean.

Then when Bobby made direct eye contact the next day, Hanbin had looked like the main character of a webtoon. His curly hair locked in perfect waves, the uniform looking crooked around the edges but fitting his punk personality. On his first day of philosophy class, Hanbin had ran into class with his messy curls and wrinkled uniform and sent a tiny smirk Bobby’s way.

And today Hanbin is sitting closer than Bobby has ever been around the boy. The dim light that peers into the room makes Hanbin’s hair look like a halo surrounded his silky brown locks that frame the roundness of his face. Golden light that melted in the chocolate color of his eyes, swirls of coffee and earthy tones immaculate his aura. His skin glows just that tiny bit that it almost looks like the dust moles that swim in the air look like fairy dust that decants from Hanbin’s pores.

He looks ethereal in Bobby’s eyes.

Hanbin’s smile seems to grow bigger with each passing second that Bobby’s eyes flicker over his face. The action makes Bobby snap out of his trance and blink away those thoughts. He looks away and picks his pencil, randomly drawing stars on the margins of his notes.

“I’m calling you Jiwon then.” Hanbin says it like a final statement. As if Bobby had no right to refuse Hanbin from using his birth name.

Bobby frowns, “Why?”

“Because,” He states simply. “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”

Bobby’s heart flutters.

“So Jiwon, what brought you into detention?”

It’s whiplash. One minute Hanbin is gazing at Bobby with soft, doe eyes and the next second he’s got a mischievous smile on his lips. Bobby clears his throat again, mentally preparing himself.

“Accidentally yelled at a friend during a quiz,” Bobby rolls his eyes at the memory. “The teacher hates me and gave me an entire week of detention.” He finishes dejectedly. Bobby expects for Hanbin to feel pity for him, maybe a pat on the shoulder and a _dude, you’ll be fine._ He’s thrown off his axis when Hanbin sits upright, leaning closer into Bobby’s space and says:

“That’s great!”

Bobby blinks.

Hanbin shifts, as if suddenly aware of what he said. As if he hadn’t meant to say that. A blush fuels over his face, Bobby has never seen anyone turn as red as Hanbin in that moment. It’s adorable.

“I mean – no! It’s not great that you got detention.” He licks his lips, avoiding looking Bobby in the eyes. “I meant that, since I also have to be in detention for a week it’ll be nice to, you know, have company.” Hanbin finishes off lamely, the last words uttered quietly. But Bobby hears them perfectly fine and he’d be a liar to not admit – even if just to himself – that it felt nice that Hanbin wanted to get to know him just as much as he did.

“Oh yeah,” God. He’s so awkward. “And you? How’d you get yourself in detention?”

Hanbin changes in a flash. He’d been looking out the aluminum windows with the pink blush unfurling over his face. Next thing Bobby knew Hanbin was snorting and the flush was gone, almost as if Bobby’s imagination had put it there.

“Some asshole teacher said I wasn’t allowed to wear so much jewelry. I said he was just jealous because his ex-wife had taken the jewels he gifted her.” Hanbin slouches into the chair and raises his legs so they rest on the desk and his feet hang off the edge. “Needless to say, here I am on a Monday afternoon in detention that’ll last til Friday evening.”

Bobby smiles, “You’re the only normal person in this school, Hanbin.” His heart beats a little faster when he says Hanbin’s name out loud. It rolls off his tongue sweetly, like an expensive candy that leaves its honey flavored taste even after finished. Hanbin grins, his eyelashes fluttering and catching into his too long wavy hair.

The door opens and both boys’ sit up. Filch walks in, his statement sneer on full display as he dismisses them. When Bobby looks up to find the clock hanging on the wall he’s surprised to see it at 6:15. The two hours have gone by and Bobby felt like his conversation with Hanbin had lasted about two minutes. Hanbin jumps off his seat, grabbing his backpack and the skateboard that leans against the wall. Bobby rushes to do the same, not before the old man glowers at Bobby and manages to say through clench teeth to be back the next day. _On time_ , he makes sure to emphasize.

Bobby nods apologetically and walks out the door. Behind him, Hanbin sends the man a sly smirk and a mocking wave, skipping his way out of the room. Bobby purposefully walks slow to see if Hanbin will catch up with him or something. But Hanbin stays behind, whistling an unfamiliar tune to Bobby’s ears. The hallway is bare of any existence, the silence almost overwhelming and scary as he walks past its already dark corridors. Hanbin’s soles slap against the squeaky clean tiles, never once rushing towards Bobby.

As soon as they step outside, Hanbin is on his skateboard and rolling further away from Bobby. He tells himself it’s fine, he shouldn’t have expected to become all chummy with Hanbin after a few words were shared. It’s better this way, Bobby shouldn’t be getting too close to a boy who has taken over his mind.

And yet, as Bobby enters the loud and rambunctious cafeteria, he wonders why he felt hurt when Hanbin ran off without even a goodbye.

**//**

The next day passes by in a similar routine. Junhoe hasn’t given him the time of his day, hasn’t even lend Bobby the notebook. He’s had to read extra chapters in order for him to comprehend the lessons being taught. Bobby doesn’t say anything about it to Donghyuk, he skips lunch every day and buys from the vending machine instead. Donghyuk always questions his whereabouts and Jinhwan pretends to be interested which only makes Bobby’s blood boil and hold back the urge to smack the smug smile off his face.

Bobby tells Donghyuk lies. That he’s busy with a class, taking tutoring lessons. Donghyuk looks like he doesn’t believe a single word, but unlike Junhoe, he doesn’t pry too much into it. He just sends Bobby a simple sweet message telling him that he’s always there for him. The sentiment is appreciated and it makes warmth bubble in his chest to know that Bobby has at least one person who has his back.

Anticipation sits heavy in his chest as he pretends to nod along with Donghyuk’s explanation for their Korean History class while he keeps his eyes focused on Hanbin. The other boy is busy writing in his notebook like he usually is, but there is interest clear in his expression as he listens to his friends attentively at the same time.

Their teacher had come into class with a cup of tea and said he wasn’t in the mood to lecture so it was up to them to teach themselves. A bad idea perhaps because Bobby is more than sure that no one in class is actually discussing the topic. Dr. Jung must known that none of them are conversing about the philosophy paper they’d been assigned, but he has a nice smile gracing his lips as he sips his tea and reads a book.

“Until when do you have detention?” Donghyuk asks. Bobby sees Jinhwan perk up, Junhoe very conveniently flips through the pages of their chapter.

“I told you already. Until Friday, then I’m free.” He says through a rather fake smile. Donghyuk sighs in disappointment.

“I still don’t know what even got you in there in the first place. Do you know how bad that’s going to look in your record? Universities don’t like troublemakers, Bobby hyung.”

Bobby rolls his eyes playfully. He knows Donghyuk means well, which is why he isn’t annoyed with him. But he also doesn’t want to tell him it was all Junhoe’s fault.

“It’s not a big deal, seriously, the teacher just hates me.” Bobby flickers his eyes over the students, bodies slouched against the chairs and looking less like pretentious teenagers from a high school netflix movie and more like teenagers just having a good time.

“Some guy in my class was bothering me so I told him off during our pop quiz and she got mad.” Bobby blurts out. Donghyuk looks surprised and honestly, so do Jinhwan and Junhoe. Bobby avoids glancing Junhoe’s way and focuses back on Donghyuk. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t been talking to me since.”

In that moment, after Bobby has said that, Donghyuk goes on a lecture about how he should have reported that guy to the teacher instead of taking the blame and ignoring the looks Jinhwan and Junhoe were throwing at him, Bobby found himself catching Hanbin’s curious eyes which had been focused on him.

Hanbin looks unfazed at having been caught staring. His friends aren’t paying attention to him, so they don’t realize that Hanbin has his cheek planted on the palm of his hands as he blinks with an indifferent expression at Bobby.

Someone kicks his chair and Bobby is startled from it so much that his glasses end up slipping down his nose. He blinks at the three faces that were staring at him puzzled, their faces blurry and barely recognizable. Bobby blindly reached for his glasses that had fallen on his lap and when he puts them back on he sees that Hanbin has gone back to writing and laughing with his friends. It happened so fast Bobby thinks it must have been his imagination.

“What were you staring at?” Jinhwan asks nosily.

Bobby feels his ears turn hot, “I probably won’t meet up with you for dinner. I have some homework for class I need to catch up on.” Bobby ignores Jinhwan’s question – which doesn’t go unnoticed by the short guy nor by Junhoe – to address Donghyuk.

It’s true he has to catch up on notes for his shared class with Junhoe since that class is so complicated, but it also has to do with how Bobby doesn’t want to be around Junhoe.

Donghyuk tightens his lips into a thin line, but then shakes his head and sighs. Bobby is grateful that Donghyuk has let the topic go and for the remainder of their class they study the chapter. Class is over soon enough and Bobby doesn’t waste a second to rush out of class – he doesn’t want to stand another moment of suffocating tension between him and Junhoe while Donghyuk and Jinhwan stare at them from the corner of their eyes.

He’s got detention at exactly 4:20, but this time he isn’t in a haste since he knows where the class is, though there is a step of excitement that springs from the soles of his feet as he makes his way to the room.

That excitement of course leads its way to Hanbin. Bobby wants to see him again, this time get to, hopefully, observe him and what he’s always writing in his notebook. The spring air is heavy with humidity and fog that clings onto his clothes and makes his skin glow. Bobby stops by a vending machine to get a snack this time, munching on it on his way to the room since he wasn’t planning on going to the dining hall.

When he enters the detention room the man from yesterday is there. He sneers at Bobby, signs him into a sheet before waving him off and sliding a pair of very thin, crooked glasses on the tip of his nose to read. Bobby sits in the same spot as last time, pulling out his precious notebook that has his inner most thoughts written in black ink as he waits for Hanbin’s arrival.

Hanbin takes longer to get to the detention room. Bobby frowns as he glares at the running time on the clock – no sign of Hanbin yet. He shouldn’t be too bothered about, it’s not like they’d agree to talk with one another today, or any day really. And Bobby doubts that the old man will storm out of the room like last time, so there is no point to be disappointed as thirty minutes pass by and Hanbin doesn’t burst in.

But it’s there. That disappointment and feeling of being stood up. Hanbin had seem excited to talk with Bobby, had said _that’s great!_ when Bobby let him know he’d be in detention all week. He had even caught Hanbin gazing at Bobby from across their classroom! That must have meant something –

Much like yesterday, Bobby is startled from his seat and his doodling on the notebook when the door slams open. This time Hanbin doesn’t have his skateboard with him nor his backpack. He’s empty handed as he walks in and grins at the old man, the smile turning more genuine when he spots Bobby.

“Afternoon Filch, I see you’ve gone back to your reading habits with those pathetic books of yours.” Hanbin salutes Bobby and makes his way towards the back row right next to where he sat with Bobby yesterday.

Up front, the old man – Filch – is scowling. His face wrinkles into harsh lines that roll lines of thin skin to hollow within his face. Bobby thinks the man scary, but Hanbin looks like he’s seconds away from bursting into laughter. The book is slammed shut and the old man is storming out just like the day before.

Bobby feels his heart rate quicken with the expectation of talking with Hanbin. There are questions he wants to ask, to find out what is so precious about that notebook Hanbin carries everywhere. It seems like Hanbin too is eager, since as soon as the old man is out he is turning around to face Bobby, moving his desk closer to Bobby’s.

“Why was Donghyuk looking moody with you?” Hanbin asks.

The question catches Bobby off guard. No hesitation, no faltering in his expression when all Bobby does after the question has been asked is blink perplexedly. There is curiosity and eagerness from Hanbin that lilts his words and catches onto the gleams of his brown eyes. Bobby blinks blankly, not having expected for their second conversation to begin like this.

“Uh,” He stutters, “Well, he’s just been kinda mad that I got detention. He keeps insisting I tell him why and who got me sent here.” Bobby rolls his eyes, he knows Donghyuk means well, but Bobby cannot stand the idea of Jinhwan overhearing or him finding out because someone was eavesdropping on their conversation. He can already imagine the smug smile that would bloom over his lips and all the teasing remarks he’d make towards Bobby and Junhoe’s weird friendship.

“How come you haven’t told him who was bothering you?”

Bobby frowns, “Because it’s none of his business.” Or more accurately, he’s afraid that Donghyuk will chose his friendship with Junhoe over Bobby. But that is something Bobby presses deep down in him, where other thoughts and wishes lay in a desperate attempt to escape.

“Donghyuk’s not doing it because he’s nosy.” Hanbin looks mildly miffed, which confuses Bobby further. Is he friends with Donghyuk? Donghyuk has never mentioned Hanbin before. “He just wants to know who the asshole was that put you in here. Make the guy pay for getting you into trouble.”

Bobby furrows his brows, “I have a hard time imagining someone as cute as DK harming even a fly, much less the guy who got me in trouble.” Hanbin snorts at that. “Besides, I know that. But I don’t want him to find out who it was. Why are you even defending Donghyuk so much? Are you two friends?”

Hanbin rolls his eyes, “C’mon man. You’re the new kid in school. Girls find you really hot and some of the guys around school want you in their athletic teams because they heard you were a star basketball player back in your American school.”

There’s a bout of embarrassment that floors Bobby, he hadn’t known that Hanbin was paying attention to him. Nor that so many people were talking about him, no one’s ever come up to him and gotten to know him. He was also questioning how they found out he was in the basketball team. He’d only told three people and Bobby was sure those three students hadn’t been blurting everything he’d said to the entire student population.

“It’s not common for people to end up in detention. You’re already the talk of the school, dude. That’s why Donghyuk’s worried and pestering you into telling him who it was. It’s not always good for the people of this school to get interested in you, then they start dictating everything about you.”

Hanbin scowls, his eyes turning dark. Bobby gazes at Hanbin unabashedly, there is sadness and anger in his soft edges. Bobby wants to pry, dig deeper into the mysteries that surround Hanbin like fog.

“Well, I think you’re wrong about me being popular and all.” Bobby turns to look at his notebook, opened to a blank page. “No one has talked to me since I got here besides Donghyuk and Junhoe. I find it hard to believe so many people are interested in me.”

Hanbin has that same thoughtful expression he’d had earlier when Bobby caught him staring in class. “I guess you can’t take my word for it either.” There’s something almost resentful in the way he speaks, it makes more questions form in Bobby’s head. “Not a lot of people like me here.” There’s a self-pitying smile grazing his lips that makes Bobby want to flick it away, he doesn’t know Hanbin but there’s something in the boy that Bobby sees mirrored in himself.

“As for people not coming to talk with you, it probably has to do with how Jinhwan and Junhoe have been low-key threatening anyone who so much as looks at you.” Hanbin sends him a smirk, placing his head on his palm. He does that a lot Bobby notices.

Bobby is bewildered. So Hanbin also talks to Jinhwan and Junhoe? “What? Jinhwan and Junhoe?”

“Yeah, well, it’s mostly Junhoe.” Hanbin says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s kind of –“

The door is slammed opened. Both Bobby and Hanbin jump from their seats, Bobby knocking his knee against the underside of the desk. He winces in pain, hand flying to his bony knee.

The old man is back, not sparing a glance at either boy. “You Kim Hanbin, sit on the other side of the class.”

Hanbin frowns, “Why?”

“Ask again and that’s another day of detention for you.”

Hanbin looks seconds away from making a snarky comment, Bobby saves him by getting up himself and sitting in the front, away from Hanbin. The old man seems to want to make a complain, but he lets it slide as he slips back out of the room, this time leaving the detention room door open.

Bobby opens his notebook, ripping out a clear page. _What was that about?_

When Bobby turns around, Hanbin is glaring at his desk. It’s an adorable sight, Bobby has to take a few seconds to admire the pout of his plump lips and how sulky he looks sitting there on that chair. He carefully folds the paper into the smallest square he can possibly make it into, shutting one eye as he shoots the folded paper.

His basketball reflexes revive as he flicks his wrist just right and gravity whooshes it through the air until it lightly smacks Hanbin right on the nose, tumbling down the desk. Hanbin startles, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he picks the paper up and looks up to Bobby across the classroom. Bobby points at the paper encouragingly, sending him a giddy smile. Hanbin grins back, unfolding the paper.

Bobby switches back to facing the front, tapping his fingers against the shiny wood of the desk with his cheek on his palm. He feels something hit his shoulder, just a barely their hint of a tap.

_Probably got caught not paying attention to us_

_Also doesn’t want me to corrupt you_

Bobby frowns, what does that even mean?

_Corrupt me? I’m American, that’s all we know lol_

The gentle thud of the paper square hitting the target catches Hanbin’s attention. There are footsteps echoing outside, Bobby watches as Hanbin quickly scribbles something on the paper before he crushes it into a ball and throws it at Bobby too far to the left. Just at that moment the footsteps stop and Bobby finds himself scurrying to face the front. His eyes flicker to the paper, hidden in the shadows underneath one of the large empty bookshelves.

There is an elderly man that steps inside the classroom, his face indifferent as he blinks at Bobby coolly before turning his eyes to Hanbin. His expression changes immediately, dark brown eyes lit in anger and disappointment. Bobby feels a lump forming in his throat, wanting to stand up in front of the stranger and hide Hanbin from the awful gaze.

“Your mother wants to speak to you once your,” He pauses, his mouth twisting in distaste as if he’d sucked on a lemon, “ _detention_ , is over.”

Bobby holds the urge of turning around, curious to see Hanbin’s reaction. This old man seems to be familiar with Hanbin, stern face drawn on as he casually sits down where Filch man had sat earlier. The man keeps his eyes steady where Hanbin sits, gaze cold and indifferent. The stare is nowhere near glazing Bobby, but he feels intimidated by the lack of emotion strewn on the elderly man’s face, he can only imagine what Hanbin must be feeling.

Time passes by awfully slow. Bobby keeps staring up at the clock, internally groaning when he realizes only five minutes have passed since the last time he checked. His eyes keep fluttering closed against his will, sleep tugging his lids after spending too many nights writing notes and avoiding dinner. Suddenly his stomach growls loudly, embarrassing Bobby as he startles awake and flushes. His glasses are askew on his nose, carefully fixing them and finally taking notice of the stare from the elderly man being directed on him.

Bobby freezes, eyes wide as he gazes back. Outside the gentle Spring air whistles over the large aluminum windows, the clock ticking loudly and piercingly in the silence of the classroom. A garish groan vibrates through the white, blank walls of the classroom and Bobby is mortified to note that it was his stomach again that made the weird gurgling loud noise.

“Mr. Kim, I give you permission to leave for dinner early.” Cool brown eyes fixed firmly on Bobby who only blinks confused. The man waves him off, “Go on, it’ll only be today that you are dismissed.”

Carefully Bobby gets up, his eyes flash to where the ball of paper is rolled up underneath the edge of the shelf. He warily looks at the man from his peripheral vision, glad to note that the man is now handling his shiny, expensive silver watch. Bobby uses his elbow to knock over the notebook, flinching when it makes a loud smack against the shiny linoleum floor. The man looks at him with lazy eyes before fixing his eyes back on the watch.

Quickly, Bobby moves through the thin space between the desks and reaches for the paper ball, hiding it beneath his notebook. When he looks up he finds that Hanbin has his hands fisted into tight balls, eyes glowering in the late afternoon sunlight, and his lip sneering over the edges. He watches the old man with a luminous fiery that Bobby had not seen before in the few moments they’d caught one another’s eyes.

Bobby stuffs his notebook into his backpack, crumbling the paper into the pockets of his pants. “Afternoon Sir,” Bobby’s low voice is only acknowledged by a slow nod. Bobby takes that as his cue to finally leave, just before he steps through the threshold he turns back and once again, to Hanbin it seems like Bobby was never there.

His steps from the heels of his shiny black shoes echo throughout the hallway. Slow and thumping, almost like a gentle beat he could mix on his laptop. Bobby slips a hand into his pocket, touching the spiked edges of the rolled up paper ball before tugging it out. He unwraps it, eyes flickering over the grey and blue of their pens and the messy chicken scrawl they both have. His eyes glance beneath his last message, where Hanbin had written in barely legible writing:

_Is that a challenge? I’ll corrupt you. I swear >:)_

Leisurely, the way a blooming flower in the spring will blossom under the soft warm rays of the sun, Bobby smiles. He can feel it almost threatening to split his face in half, warmth rushing to his cheeks below the incandescent lights of the hallway.

Bobby skips dinner and buys eight dollars’ worth of vending machine food.

\\\

Junhoe comes into their room smelling like ocean waves and amber wood. It’s an odd fragrance, something that shouldn’t be mixed together but obviously works because it smells really good. Bobby closes his eyes, sinking into the hardness of his mattress. For a few seconds the room is blanketed in darkness and silence, Bobby breathes evenly as to make believe that he has fallen asleep.

There are two holes drilling to his back, Junhoe’s scent becomes stronger. Bobby thinks he’s going to say something, but then there is the rustling of clothing being removed and duvets dipping with the weight of Junhoe falling into the bed. Bobby tightens his hands around the edge of the blanket, falling asleep to glimmering onyx eyes, ocean waves, and _I’ll corrupt you. I swear._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for leaving such nice and encouraging comments on the last chapter :) they helped me have the enthusiasm to keep on writing this fic faster <3 i kept re-reading them, you're all so nice!! 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed double b finally meeting each other! the slow burn has begun :))


	3. bless those tired eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanbin has reawakened a part inside of Bobby that he’d thought would never awaken. But he’s peeking out through tiny open doors, falling into swirls of cherries, curly hair, and secret notes passed between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there are several anxiety attacks and acts of self-harm. Towards the ending the particular anxiety attack is very descriptive, when you see this '~~~~' in bold the scene starts. There's not much that is super relevant except describing the feelings of the character so please read with caution or you can avoid it and end the chapter. 
> 
> Thank you!

Three years ago, when Bobby had his first detention hour his freshman year of high school, he’d have dreaded attending it. The teacher who had to observe the students was one of the soccer coaches who was pretty cool but also didn’t let any student get away with using their phone or even writing in class unless it was explaining and answering questions in a paper of why they were in detention.

But now he had something to look forward to.

He knows he shouldn’t be developing any emotions towards Hanbin. Bobby doesn’t even know the guy. (Except he kind of does. He knows Hanbin likes to ride his skateboard everywhere, he likes to be rebellious, he’s always writing, he has pretty eyes, he’s pretty in general –) There is a reason, a sole, terrible reason of why he is here at this school in a country thousands of miles away from his birth land.

 _Keep it that way_. He hears his mother say.

Bobby pushes open the door to the familiar room and is baffled both because of Hanbin sitting on the desk, head pillowed on his golden colored elbows and of the inexplicable smell of cherries. They’ve shared this very room for their detention for the past two days and it’s always been Bobby who reaches the room first. It’s odd to see Hanbin early, like, when did he even get here when they both shared the same class? Filch isn’t in the classroom, not really surprising to Bobby since the man seems to only exist in the reality within the walls of this room and not out in the real world.

Hanbin doesn’t pick his head up, and as Bobby walks closer to him he realizes that the smell of cherries is coming from the sleeping boy. Earlier in class, Bobby had been unable to catch much of Hanbin since their teacher had them silently start writing their draft for their first monthly essay. He had attempted once to look over his shoulder but found Jinhwan already staring at him so Bobby had turned back to face the front as fast as he could. Ignoring the redness and hot warmth that swiveled up his ears.

Like yesterday, Hanbin is slouched over on the shine of the desk that he’d plopped himself on to sit next to Bobby that first day. His elbow stuck out, a little dry and with a few contours of past scrapes and bruises – perhaps accidents after falling off of skateboards. Bobby has his own bumps and scars on his elbows and knees of his younger years when he was dared by friends to twirl on a fire hydrant like Tony Hawk.

Bobby walks with slow calculated steps, but even then his shoes resound loudly throughout the walls and he cringes as he tries to tip-toe. Hanbin’s elbow grazes the soft cloth of his blazer when he passes him, the heat of his skin sparking a lonely grey ash to kindle a fire Bobby thought he’d long gotten rid of. 

Bobby holds in his breath, waiting for Hanbin to look up at him with sleep-ridden eyes. But nothing happens and slowly he deflates, sinking into his chair and drowning in the scent of cherries. It’s intense, almost like Junhoe’s cologne from last night, but Bobby finds the smell to be pacifying.

Since it seems like Hanbin isn’t going to be waking up any time soon and Bobby isn’t close enough with him to wake him up he decides on pulling out his notes from his infamous literature class, the one he shares with Junhoe and is the reason why he’s wasting his time away in an empty (or almost) classroom. But, as time passes by, the ceiling fan above droning sluggishly above them and making the corners of his notebook to flutter with the invisible air, Bobby unsurprisingly finds himself writing lyrics instead of analyzing the notes from today’s lecture.

Korean literature is much more difficult to understand than whatever _Shakespeare_ sonnet they were forced to read back in his high school. Possibly due to Bobby’s rather basic understandings of the Korean language, having grown up in the US he struggled with comprehending the complexity of the stories, poems, and everything that fell under literature. When Junhoe offered to lend Bobby his notes he found one class less that he had to worry over. Though that has changed now, Bobby sinks lower into his desk and lazily draws music notes over the wrinkled corners of his Lit notebook.

The shadows of his body drew shapes over his desk and the floor. He tapped his foot to an invisible beat, swaying his head softly as he wrote lines of rap songs. Bobby felt strange, a prickling feeling that started from his neck and flushed towards his cheeks. He turned, thinking offhandedly that it must have been the sun beams that poured in through the window.

Reflexively, like he was attuned to Hanbin, Bobby twisted his head to where Hanbin sat and was startled to find that Hanbin was the reason he’d been feeling the itch on the side of his face. Hanbin’s hair melted into different shades of dark browns and reddish hues, the five o’clock afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows brought out the soft curves and smooth contours of his face. And his eyes were stuck on Bobby, soft and sleepy as they twinkled in the late sunshine.

Bobby felt his breath catching, his throat clogging with words he wanted to blurt out. But he opt to stay silent, feeling like any sudden movement or abrupt words would destroy the peaceful atmosphere they shared. Bobby felt himself flush, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden as Hanbin’s head stayed turned over to face him directly, pillowed on his sinewy golden arms. The stare was intense, no boy had ever stared at Bobby with such openness and sincerity, almost as if Hanbin was speaking to him through his hazel eyes.

Bobby fought the urge to shift in his desk, he didn’t want to come off as scared or awkward. He felt neither of those emotions with Hanbin by his side, but he felt like his axis was once again being flipped over like when he was fifteen and discovering a part of himself he had buried deep inside him. His hands played mindlessly with the pen in his fingers, twirling it as to not succumb to the impulse of pushing his glasses further up his nose.

Hanbin was unlike any boy Bobby had ever met – contrasting any person from his life in the US. Boys didn’t stare at each other the way they were doing. Hanbin tracing Bobby’s features, flickering his eyes from Bobby’s lips that he couldn’t stop biting to the way his brown fluffy strands caught on his straight eyebrows. Bobby gulped, his stomach was churning and he felt like running out of the room, away from Hanbin’s prying gaze.

_Keep it that way._

_You promised._

It was on repeat, his foot tapping rather annoyingly against the squeaky clean floor. Bobby couldn’t take it anymore and turned away, scooching himself to further create the distance between him and Hanbin’s penetrating scrutiny that brought bad memories to the forefront of his mind.

Bobby cleared his throat and when he looked up, Hanbin was no longer staring at him. The only indication that they had been marveling one another’s presence was the pink shades that were lightly shadowing their features.

“Did you finish up the draft for Dr. Jung’s class?” Bobby’s voice was shaky, his throat felt like it was choking on unfinished words.

Hanbin’s fingers played thoughtlessly with the silver rings adorning his tiny fingers. “I actually finished writing the essay last week.”

Bobby turned in his seat, eyes wide in disbelief. He’d thought Hanbin was writing … well, something else. “You wrote the six page essay on _The Second Sex_ last week?” He scrunched his nose, confused. “When did you get the prompt, though?”

Hanbin bit his mouth, tugging the plushness of his full bottom lip. “I get along well with Dr. Jung. We –” He paused there, then shrugged and flickered his eyes everywhere except at Bobby.

Bobby hummed, “I thought you were writing something else.” He mumbled softly, Hanbin finally twisted to face him but he didn’t seem to have heard Bobby. “Never mind, I guess it’s a good thing someone here is responsible.”

Bobby grinned, a little shy around the edges. Hanbin huffed, looking much less tense than earlier. The air smelt like sweet cherries between them, warmth radiating from both boys. Bobby slumped against his chair, feeling at ease and almost like how he use to feel back home in Virginia with his childhood friends.

“You’ve got it all wrong, man. Dr. Jung is a very – well, he’s someone I admire a lot and his class is my favorite. It’s the only one I actually try hard for.” Hanbin looked soft, thin silver necklaces glinting in the afternoon sun where his pale skin peeked from his unbuttoned uniform shirt. Bobby’s heart leaped oddly in his chest, his ears turning too hot as he gazed a little too long at the shadow of Hanbin’s collarbones and his lean, broad chest.

Bobby bent forwards, fingering the corners of his notebook. Hanbin’s skateboard was gently being rolled back and forth beneath Hanbin’s desk, the tattered design scratched up looking worn out but was obviously a prized possession. Bobby fixed his glasses, his nervous tick coming back as the atmosphere turned awkward.

“How come you call the old, mean man _Filch_?” Bobby was curious of that. The name sounded familiar; it was an English name after all but Bobby had never heard of it before.

Hanbin suddenly stood straight up, shooting out of his chair practically. He had such an offended expression written all over his face, jaw agape in pure incredulity. He narrowed his eyes, giving Bobby a _look_ , suspicious of Bobby. Which, like, what? What had Bobby said? Was Filch some prodigy around this elite campus and Bobby hadn’t paid much attention to the brochure that he missed out on that memo and now he was going to be sacrificed by the throng of angry students with Hanbin leading the crowd?

“Wait, you’re serious?”

Bobby blinked, realizing he had been leaning away from the boy. “Uh, yes?”

Hanbin burst out in laughter.

“Oh my! Donghyuk will murder you, I swear he will!” He clutched his stomach as he bent over the desk. Bobby was now the one giving Hanbin the incredulous expression. “Sorry,” Hanbin breathed heavily for air, his hand rubbing his chest. “Filch is a character from Harry Potter. Please tell me you know who that –”

Bobby scowled, pouting his lips and not missing the way Hanbin’s eyes flashed towards his mouth. “Yes, I know who that is!”

Hanbin snorted, “Okay at least you’re not a complete moron. Filch is the squib that lives there in the castle and his job is to terrorize poor students with his nasty yellow teeth, bald head, and scary ass cat.”

Bobby cocked his head to the side in thought, yeah it did make sense. He had never seen Harry Potter but the description of Filch perfectly described the old man. “Where’s the scary ass cat?”

“It haunts the school hallways at night and bites students to death if they’re caught roaming the school hallways.” Bobby gave him a dry stare, but felt his lips wanting to tug into a soft smile.

Bobby opened his mouth to ask Hanbin who the elderly man with the expensive, luxury clothing from yesterday was, but before he could ask the door opened silently except for the squeaks of the door railing. Bobby and Hanbin both turned to face the door and from Bobby’s peripheral view he saw the way Hanbin tensed up and just like yesterday his face became blank with no emotions.

Today the old man was wearing a silky red button up, a black tie neatly draping over his chest and ironed slacks paired with expensive leather shoes. His watch was different, a golden thick watch with glinting diamonds that Bobby could barely spot. His silver strands were neatly gelled back, expression uninterested except for the small barely their sneer that pulled his thin lips when he noticed the short distance between Hanbin and Bobby.

“Mr. Kim, it’s truly unfortunate that you’ve been assigned detention all week.” His eyes passed between Hanbin and him, making Bobby twitch in his seat. “You’re here on a scholarship after all, therefore if rebellious and rude behavior keeps coming up from you, well, it’d be a true shame to your parents to inform them of your expulsion.”

There was a tense silence. The old man casually sitting down on the chair set in the middle of the large desk up front. Bobby flushed, feeling shame crawling up his arms and coloring him in a shade of red that was glaring against the wash of bright lights. He no longer felt warmth, instead there was a cold storm brewing inside of him as he felt memories and words that tore him apart on lonely nights.

Bobby gulped, tightening his hands into a tight ball. He could feel Hanbin’s stare boring into the side of his face. But he didn’t turn around, he felt like if he did he’d end up showing too much of what went inside of his head.

“I understand, Sir.” He said in a low voice.

The man nodded, then turned his stare to Hanbin. “You can go off.” He gestured to the door. “I have some things I need to discuss with you and your parents.”

Bobby’s face was determinedly staring at the desk, his eyes blurring the words inked into the pages of his notebook and making them look like spider legs crawling everywhere. He could hear Hanbin standing up, the desk screeching with the movement of his body. There wasn’t much Bobby could clearly see, his eyes were filled with tears wanting to spill meaning he could only make out the shapes of his surroundings.

Hanbin bent down to pick his skateboard up, but just before he left his warm hand splayed across Bobby’s right fist, a warm palm that squeezed him in comfort and then a paper being tangled underneath the fist. Bobby swallowed, blinking the tears away in confusion as he lifted his head just slightly to stare after Hanbin’s back.

The old man hadn’t been looking until Hanbin was up front. He stood tall, head held high with his pants rolled up and an array of frayed bracelets wrapped around each ankle. The man got up, following after Hanbin who as usual did not turn to give Bobby a look. Just before the old man left the room, his hand switched off the light and gave Bobby, who stood at the far corner of the classroom with his lips tight and hands fisted, eyes sparkling in tears, a nod before shutting the door close.

It seem so vastly different the reality before the old man interrupted them with the current present Bobby was stuck in. He could feel his chest closing up, making it difficult to take in deep breaths. The words of the old man were playing like an annoying tick at the back of Bobby’s mind.

He wasn’t embarrassed about being here on a scholarship, but the way the man had said it, the implication that Bobby should feel regret and shame pulling at his stomach and making him feel guilty if his parents found out –. Bobby could already imagine the despair in his father’s face and the furious look in his mother’s eyes when they would inform her that Bobby was being expelled for misbehavior and misconduct.

And now Hanbin knew. There was a part of Bobby that was now out in the open, all because some old man wanted to make Bobby feel humiliated. And for what reason? Fuck if Bobby knew. He closed his eyes, counting to ten and breathing in deeply through his nose before exhaling out of his mouth. Anxiety was slowly building up in his chest, the tapping of his own shoes annoying Bobby, and every little noise that seem to reverberate loudly for his too sensitive ears was making him angry.

He stood up abruptly, grabbing his notebook and haphazardly throwing it inside of his backpack. The tiny paper Hanbin had placed in his hand was screaming at him to pay attention to it, but Bobby didn’t want to think about Hanbin or about the school or anything really. However, unlike the harsh way he’d placed his notebook inside his backpack, Bobby instead unzipped a small pocket from inside and placed the folded note gently in there.

There was no one around, the sun was dwindling down in the horizon looking like a butterscotch candy hanging lowly. Bobby shuffled between the maze of desks, hurriedly snatching the doorknob and slamming it open. The hallway was empty, no sign of Filch nor of Hanbin and the old man. Bobby turned to stare back at the room, cherries perfuming its scent even though Hanbin was no longer there.

It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since he’d stepped inside for his third day of detention and if he was caught having skipped it he’d surely get into trouble. But staying any minute longer in the slowly enclosing atmosphere that was suffocating Bobby in past images he wanted to get rid of was too much.

Bobby walked out and listened to the door shutting close, his legs jogging through the corridor until he was out in the hot spring late afternoon, the sun rays splashing over his tousle curls making them gleam. The cherries were stuck in his nose, even as he ran faster and faster through the neatly mowed grass, latching onto his skin like moths to a light.

Cherries were his mother’s favorite fruit.

God, Bobby _hated_ them.

\\\

He was out of breath, and he wasn’t feeling much better. There was still a knot prevalent in his throat that made it difficult for Bobby to breathe. His heart was racing and his legs were beginning to ache. Bobby snorted to himself, he hadn’t played basketball or exercised for almost three months and he was already out of shape. Coach would be disappointed in him and his teammates would probably tease him until the next season.

It had been a long run, not that Bobby had paid much attention to where exactly he’d run off to. His brain had been warped in mean words and crying parents, frustration and shame still lingering even after minutes had gone by. His feet had led him to an area that Bobby had seen in the catalogue of the school brochure and also in the website, the one picture that Bobby had wrinkled the page and left the window of his laptop open to for weeks.

The basketball court was an abandoned spot. There were no boys around, no girls mingling to check out their jock crush, or screaming coaches yelling about dribbling and fouls. From further up ahead Bobby could hear all of that, giggles, heavy breathing, shouts from coaches. The soccer field was full of teenagers chilling around, wearing jeans and shorts instead of the uniform slacks. They looked almost normal.

The school had a basketball team, not as great as their soccer team or as their volleyball one, but it was okay for a prestigious school. Bobby had been looking forward to at least practicing with the other boys in his new school, but after an argument with his mother and one look at her expression of disapproval, Bobby had resigned to staring after the court in longing.

He was grateful though that it was empty, he didn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to himself. Hanbin had said he was popular for being a basketball star in this new school, there was no reason to add more fire to that growing one.

A small shack was placed just ahead where the benches were. Bobby dropped his backpack on the grass, jogging over and finding it unlocked. Inside there were basketballs arranged in neat rows, nets for volleyball games, and a few miscellaneous items. Bobby grabbed the first basketball that he was closest to, his hand became attuned to the material of it immediately and it felt like finally he was breathing.

The sun was beating down his neck, Bobby unbuttoned his shirt until it was halfway his chest, rolling up the sleeves after throwing off his blazer and removing the tie. It was habit after that, like coming back to his favorite swings from the local park or after winning a championship title. Bobby dribbled the ball, spreading his legs apart as he threw it back and forth between the openness of his legs. And it was like that, a sudden switch flipped inside of him.

Sweat beads rolled down on his back, his shirt clinging sticky and uncomfortable. His legs were begging for a moment of rest and he was already beginning to feel his throat and mouth become parched for water. The muscles of his arms were sore and Bobby knew that for the next few days he’d be waking up with aches and painful stretches of his muscles. But he didn’t care, it felt liberating to jump up high and feel the slight easy breeze of late March pamper his face. This felt like coming home, his body becoming adjusted to a once familiar practice that had been his form of happiness.

Bobby ran back and forth across the court, his feet starting to swell in pain with the tightness and unfitness of the shoe size. His pants were sticking to his thighs and legs in a way that made him feel uncomfortable and awkward, but right now that didn’t matter. The relief that came through his body was worth it and he already felt lighter on his feet as he threw three-pointers and knocked the basketball onto the corner, jumping for a dunk.

His chest is heaving, hands on his knees and nose scrunched as sweat strolls past his nape and around his neck. Bobby feels gross, but even that is welcomed. Reminds him of those spring days in Virginia when the air was cool and he was out playing basketball with friends. Bobby brings a hand to wipe his forehead, using the baggy ends of his shirt to wipe off the sweat from around his neck and chest.

Bobby walked sluggishly over to where he’d thrown his backpack on the grass and fell in a heap on top of it, his head smacking a little too forcefully and hitting against the books inside. Bobby winced at the pain, but was too tired to even focus much on that. His brain wanted to sleep and his eyes were fluttering as the slowly early evening air became cooler. The muscles of his body were loose, his heart still pumping from the adrenaline rush and the serotonin that currently had Bobby feeling as if he were high.

He sighed, lips slowly and lazily spreading to form a soft barely their smile. Bobby closed his eyes, the cherry blossom trees perfumed the air in thick aromas of sweet cherries and it reminded him of the way Hanbin had stared at him with an intensity that left Bobby breathless in a mixture of fear and euphoria.

Cherries reminded him of Hanbin. Of his warmth, the callouses of his hand, round cheeks and red lips. There was no one here to see him, no one to read his mind as he thought of Hanbin’s lightly peach tone skin and how smooth it looked. No mother to scowl and whisper harshly into his ear, _stop staring at those boys._ Bobby could look at Hanbin freely in his mind, sweep his gaze up and down from the roundness of his butt stretched across black slacks to the veins that climbed through his lean forearms.

Right in that moment, Bobby was free. He was swooping across the sky in flying colors, lying on his back with his arms stretched outwards and long lashes fanning across the smooth expanse of his face colored a delicate crimson from the flushing that the sun left and the glow of sweat that sparkled across his skin to look dewy and silky.

Bobby relished in the basking warmth of the sinking sun and the way his mind held no screaming words, his stomach did not sink in guilt and shame, his knees weren’t weak as he thought of Hanbin and Junhoe or of the way Donghyuk smiled too brightly across seats that sometimes it blinded Bobby.

But it’s Hanbin’s face that hovers in his mind. Taking possession of every thought and controlling how he viewed certain things as reminders of Hanbin. Here he was, almost a month into his new school in South Korea, moving across the globe because his mother wanted him to grow up as a good, church son. It’s a mindless thought, Bobby barely remembers it as he succumbs to the tiredness, but it’s there.

Hanbin has reawakened a part inside of Bobby that he’d thought would never awaken again after what had happened in Virginia. But he’s peeking out through tiny open doors, falling into swirls of cherries, curly hair, and secret notes passed between them.

Oh his poor mother, she must be wallowing in anger and disappointment. Because here was Bobby, entangling himself into the hands of another boy.

\\\

When Bobby opens his eyes it’s twilight. The sun has sunken but its rays shine across the dark sky that shines just barely with glinting stars. Bobby frowns confused about his whereabouts. Shouldn’t he be in detention? Why was he out here where the basketball courts were? Also, why was he almost half naked, shirt unbuttoned to his navel.

The euphoria and exhilaration he’d felt just before he’d slept for a few minutes was gone. Bobby felt like throwing up because no, _no no nonononono._ This wasn’t right. He shut his eyes tightly, his nails scratching against his skin and leaving lines of red marks, tearing through the skin as he went back and forth in harsh tugs. No, no, he should not have thought that. Bobby was a good boy. He was a son of God. God did not want him to be the way he was.

His chest was heaving but this time it wasn’t due to the joy of running and shooting basketballs, it was out of fear. Closing up his airways just like it used to happen before he moved. When his mother did not allow him to go outside except to sit down in a church, hearing the priest say _God does not like sinners._

Bobby was a sinner. A weak minded young man who fell into the traps of the devil. Falling into Hanbin’s curious eyes or Junhoe’s delicately sculpted face. Bobby growled, grinding his teeth as he sat up with his knees pressed against the grass. His hands flew to his hair, still wet from the sweat. The fingers of his hand tightened around the little curls of his brown hair and he tugged painfully on them, his head beginning to ache as he rocked back and forth on his knees begging for forgiveness.

_You promised. You promised. You promised. Stupid Jiwon, you promised! Mom said, keep it that way! I’m so sorry, God. Forgive me Father for I have sinned._

\\\

When he steps into the large looming building of the brick building that was the library, Bobby was still feeling the aftermath of his panic attack. He was grateful that it wasn’t full, most students rushing off for leftovers of the dinner and others working on their homework in their dorms. Bobby would have rushed back into his bed if it weren’t for the chances of running into Junhoe and having to experience for a long period the tension between them.

The library was quiet and it smelt like old books and apples. The librarian at the front desk never smiled, but her eyes were always alit in wonder which made her harsh features and the way her glasses slid down her nose to stare at students less intimidating. Bobby sent her a shaky smile and a nod, gulping when her eyes lingered on him a second longer than usual.

Or maybe he was paranoid. In Bobby’s mind every student was staring at him, boys sneering in disgust and making lewd gestures with their hands or the girls giggling and smirking whenever he flushed at the way the boys stared. Okay, he needs to cut it out. Bobby took in a deep breath, looking back up from where he’d been staring at the carpet floor. No one was even sparing him a glance, minding their own business as they typed on laptops or scribbled on tablets.

He took a spot near the last corner of tables, empty with a glowing lamp since the high windows of the library had no sunlight and the lights hanging above were too dim. Bobby took out his literature book and the notebook. As he grabbed the cool metal of the spiral he remembered the note, and he had half a mind to take it out and read it. There was curiosity singing in his head, he wondered what Hanbin had written down for him.

But the words came back, he hated those words. Pulling him deeper into a grave that was dug by his parents and old friends and unnatural thoughts. Bobby bit his lip and shook his head, he needed to calm down and focus on finishing his homework. The old man was right, he couldn’t afford to lose the scholarship or get expelled. He opened up the chapter, taking out a pen and diligently taking down notes. Bobby was a good son, he’d prove it.

(And perhaps, just perhaps, Bobby found himself writing a new song filled with words of anger and disgust. The persona he took when he was this musician who composed and wrote was the complete opposite of Kim Jiwon, son of two hard working parents, and fell off the scale from Kim Bobby, the new kid who had been a star and popular guy back in his hometown. But that didn’t matter much, Bobby was doing his work, writing essays and finishing math problems.)

\\\

Bobby doesn’t know whether he should be annoyed with himself or with stupid Koo Junhoe. He hates that entitled brat. Bobby sulks as he throws his backpack on the wooden floor, glaring at the empty bed where no Junhoe was found.

Great, Bobby had spent two hours in the library barely finishing up his third page for the philosophy essay and finally getting over the too complicated literature works he had to take notes on – for practically nothing! Bobby muttered curse words at Junhoe, even going as far as throwing a random crumbled up paper at Junhoe’s bed. Then he’d quickly gone over and thrown it into the trash can because may it never be known to Koo Junhoe that Bobby had maliciously intended to mess up his perfect bed.

His shirt was still sticky and smelt bad so he’d strip off the shirt and unbuckled his pants so they hung a little past his hips. Bobby stomped to where his dresser was, still whining about how he could have been in the comfort of his room since the beginning. He was taking out a new, fresh pair of pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt when the door was suddenly slammed open. Bobby jumped startled, a gasp falling from his lips as he scrambled to hide his upper body with the purple polka dot pj pants.

It was Junhoe. He looked surprised for a moment, blinking deadpan before a frown began to mar his features. Junhoe stepped into the room which made Bobby’s scowl further deepen as he used his hip to bump the drawer shut. The taller boy returned the glare and crossed his arms across his chest, Bobby pretended not to follow the way the perfectly tailored blazer stretched across the chest.

“Where were you?” Junhoe probed. His voice was rough and Bobby faintly recognized the scent of cigarette smoke that lingered on his clothes.

Bobby frowned and reached for the bag on his top drawer to stuff his underwear and other bath products. “What do you care?”

Junhoe came forward, invading Bobby’s space. He felt vulnerable and shy, his glasses askew and shirtless in front of Junhoe. But Bobby held his ground, he’d had enough of people pushing him around today. And since when was Junhoe so concern about his whereabouts?

“You shouldn’t be out alone after classes have ended.” Junhoe was so close Bobby could feel his warm breath puffing against his face.

Bobby swallowed, “I was just at the library.” Well, he said he’d try to hold his ground. Bobby looked away first and fixed his glasses, playing with the corners of it as he took a step back. “Chill out, man. It’s not like you’ve been showing a lot of care this past week. I’m in detention because you,” He pointed an accusatory finger at Junhoe’s chest. “Some man said that I could get expelled if I ended up in there again.”

There was a conflicting array of emotions twisting Junhoe’s features before he settled on his signature indifferent expression which only made Bobby want to scream. “Well, it’s not that I cared. Donghyuk wanted to get you some dinner since you’ve been avoiding any place that I’ll pop up in. We waited for you for forty minutes and then realized you were never even in the detention room.”

Great, now Bobby felt guilty. He tightened the muscles of his jaw, the only indication that Junhoe’s word had affected him.

“Here,” Junhoe shoved a plastic bag into his hand. “It’s the dinner leftovers since you’ve been living off vending machine food.”

Bobby took it and watched with wide eyes as Junhoe strode across the room to step back outside. Where was he even going? Junhoe only turned around to give him a cross look, but then his eyes softened probably because of the puzzled look on Bobby’s face. “Eat it, Donghyuk will have my ass if you don’t.”

Junhoe shut the door quietly. Bobby stared after where he once stood, holding a plastic bag and his pajama bottoms in the other. He tightened his hold on the bag and placed his pants on the bed. Showering could wait.

He felt a little bit of warmth rush in him as he opened the bag and found a warm container of his favorite dishes inside. He remembered Hanbin saying yesterday about Junhoe and Jinhwan – which he found hard to believe, how was little dude Jinhwan scaring people off for Bobby, of all people – and how they had been making sure no one bothered Bobby.

It didn’t make much sense to Bobby, nothing really did. Everyone in this school was so confusing. Hanbin was saying Bobby was popular and was scouted for basketball, Donghyuk seem to be the only person who genuinely liked Bobby and was nice to him, Jinhwan was always staring at Bobby with a judgmental glimmer, and Junhoe was one second hot and then cold.

But, well. Those boys were the one’s shaping Bobby’s experience. Taking him under their wings, guiding him and seeming like they did care about him. Junhoe said they had waited for him with food. The knot was slowly beginning to form again, an ache appearing in his chest that threatened to become something bigger.

Bobby shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to feel sad, he was brought food from people who were concern about him. Even though Junhoe had been an asshole about it. He opened the box, and waited for Junhoe to come back, wondering where he always went off to and why he smelt like cherries and nicotine.

\\\ **~~~~**

Bobby is awakened in cold sweat.

The night before he’d showered in cold water. His skin had been burning, and he’d taken longer than usual. The thoughts he’d had earlier, when he’d been thinking about all the boys after he’d finished playing – they were eating Bobby alive. He needed to punish himself for those thoughts, his mother told him to not allow for sinful matters to obscure his future as a successful man who would one day get married and have children.

That was his role. He was here to make his parents proud because they had worked so hard to help Bobby achieve his dreams. They had paid for his expensive basketball uniform and for the enrolling deposit. His dad would always buy Bobby a new pair of basketball shoes on his birthday and his mother would miss out on tournaments so she could afford all the expanses for trips across the country.

Bobby’s job as son was to repay his parents with dedication and hard work, proving that their sacrifices had been worth it for their son to play professional basketball. But then Bobby had to go and ruin that chance. All because he was wrong, for committing evils and being an immoral soul that chased after unnatural thoughts.

Look where that got him. His one dream was over in two days, basketball was just something of the past. His mother was right, he should have worked after getting an academic job. An engineer or majoring in business. All that stuff about music and rapping and basketball would not bring them any status. Instead it had only brought pain and these feelings that made Bobby feel like he was drowning in his own skin.

The shower had started off with a light rinse of his sponge soaping the sweaty skin, but as those thoughts of guilt and remorse began to build up like building blocks Bobby had begun to harshly scrub his already sensitive skin. The scratches he’d left earlier burnt against the cool water, bright red and reminding him of why he was such a disgusting human.

He probably spent an hour standing there in the communal shower stall, scrubbing and harshly rubbing off every inch of his skin that was dirty with his sinful thoughts. His fingers looked like raisins and his body was shivering as the water turned colder and colder, making his lips turn a dark blue and for his skin to become too pale with redness vibrant against the delicate skin.

The room had still been empty when Bobby had numbly gotten beneath the covers of his bed. His hair was dripping wet, tiny droplets swinging at the ends of his hairs. Bobby hadn’t bothered with wiping off the sheen from his skin and had instead put on his night clothes which made them stick to his body. He’d been trembling when he went to bed, curling into a tiny ball and praying away the sinking feeling in his stomach.

At some point he’d fallen asleep, but his dreams had been filled with scornful expressions, his mother’s yelling still echoing in his mind. And that word. That one word that haunted Bobby and always made him spiral down into this tangled web he hated so much.

The room was dark and the only thing Bobby could hear was the racing of his heart – _thump, thump, thump_ – that bled to his ears and his lungs begging for air. He grappled for something to anchor him back in reality, anything that could get rid of this dooming feeling that stretched his ribcage open. Bobby scrambled to grab his glasses, the room was _too_ dark. Bobby’s eyesight was filled with red spots that flared in different shades of dark colors mixing with black. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything.

He was stuck, gasping for air, kicking his legs as his body became too hot but also felt like curling further into his bed because it was too cold in this room. Bobby was unfamiliar of his surroundings, he was afraid that if he got up and his feet touched the floor he’d find that he was floating in a sea of blackness with nowhere to escape or hide. It was too overwhelming to think about, Bobby was becoming desperate as hot tears began to rush down his cheeks.

Bobby gave up finding his glasses, they had disappeared into thin air in this black hole that was swooping him in. He had to get out of here, run away from all of this darkness. Bobby clumsily fell onto the floor, the cold wood helping him just a tad as his blurry vision became adjusted to the darkness. This was his room, he was in South Korea. He could see a lump on the bed across from his, Junhoe was sleeping soundly.

Bobby shut his eyes and tried to focus on the way Junhoe’s even breaths timed with the clock in their room. But it didn’t help, Bobby was still stuck and he knew that as long as he stayed in that room he’d be feeling this dizziness. Somehow he got up and felt his way around the room, perhaps it was his imagination but he heard his name being softly called.

The corridor of the boy’s hallway was lit in a warm glow, but right now that glow was too strong for Bobby. His eyes squinted, still cautious as he rounded the corner until he caught sight of the restrooms. He ran towards them, his chest getting tighter and his mind dizzy, as if he’d been hanging upside down for hours. Bobby felt like his body was vibrating, it was hard to describe it but his body wanted to jump out of his skin.

The tingling started from his fingers like it always did. Then, like an unwanted virus, it spread through the rest of his system until he felt numb and out of control of his own body. Bobby’s feet pounded on the floor, knocking into the door as the lights flickered on. He ran to one of the bathroom stalls, sinking down hard on his knees where he’d surely have bruises tomorrow.

Fear grips his heart. What if someone finds out? His mother will know when she calls him Sunday night. Maybe Junhoe knows and that’s why he hates Bobby so much. Bobby isn’t stupid, he knows how conservative South Korea is. People would find out and – Bobby shouldn’t travel down that trail of thought. He hates this feeling so much, he’s anxious to make it stop but he doesn’t know how!

Bobby’s not wearing his glasses, but even if he had he’s sure he’d still be encased in a vision of blurriness. His head was pounding and now the screams were getting louder and louder, Bobby was almost sure his mother was right there next to him. His skin burning with the disappointment that dripped from his father’s stare all over Bobby’s huddled body.

Sobs poured out of his mouth, tears blurring the white walls and white floors and porcelain toilet. Why was everything so bright? It had been dark before, swallowing him and now the bright luminous lights were blinding Bobby. It was too hot, he was burning on fire. This was how he died, in the school bathrooms alone. As it should, he deserved it.

This was God punishing him. He hated Hanbin, he hated Junhoe, he hated Donghyuk, he hated Jinhwan.

He hated himself.

Bobby somehow found a way to kick off his pants, his t-shirt pulling just above where his boxers stopped on his upper thigh. The floor was cool against his fever hot skin, but it did nothing to stop the way his lungs were being ripped open. He felt no pain, but there was a phantom there, tugging each strand of his heart strings painfully.

His stomach was flipping the contents he had earlier everywhere. It was climbing up, he could feel the hot saliva and the way his mouth became warmer and the taste of vomit climbing up. Bobby stood on his knees, grounding himself using the wave of pain that rattled his bones as he shuffled around. It was painful, he couldn’t breathe and he was going to bowel over any minute.

He can taste it, and that must be what triggers it. Bobby’s head wretches forward and he throws up. The smell is horrible, more contents being forcefully pushed out as he gags and tries to breath in air at the same time. His chest hurts, so badly. Whenever he tries to gasp in deep breaths a throbbing starts from where his ribcage ends to the expansion of his lungs. Sometimes it’ll feel like it’s over, but it starts all over again, like some game with no ending.

Bobby has no idea how long he’s bent over the toilet, crying and throwing up. It could be hours or even minutes, time has lost its concept in this moment. His breath stinks and his throat is completely wrecked, dry and hurting whenever he swallows. There are tears still falling, but now he’s almost numb to it.

He accepts the water that fills up his lungs, drowns in those thoughts and that word. Repeating like a mantra that Bobby urgently tries to shake off. He falls limp on the ground, head smacking too hard on the linoleum floor and half of his body feeling cold while the other part burns up. It’s hard to stay awake, he wishes it would all end and quiet down.

Faintly he hears someone come in, footsteps sounding faraway. Bobby shuts his eyes, falling asleep into a blank dream with the word echoing in his ears. _Fa_ –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry about the angst. notice how bobby never once says the word ‘gay.’ he is so afraid of the word that he’s blocked it out so he uses vague language to describe it. poor baby :(
> 
> to cheer you up a little bit! when bobby was lying on the grass after he finished playing and thought about hanbin, hanbin was actually crossing the land of grass to walk over to the soccer field. old mean man had let him go after a nasty argument ensued and while he was walking to the field he saw a boy splayed across the green grass beneath the orange glow of the sunlight and he smiled because he thought of bobby! they’re both whipped for each other! 
> 
> this got a little long. i just once again want to thank everyone who has kudos and commented or even given this story a chance. i am really grateful for the messages left, i’ve had a rough few days but this story has helped me in many ways as well as the nice words left. thank you! <3


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